Shades of Grey
by Optimus Bob
Summary: What lengths will one mech go to, to save the lives of those he loves. Sequel to Losing Control. Rating will change to reflect chapter later on.
1. Cybertron

A/N: So here it is, chapter 1 of the sequel to Losing Control. I am quite nervous about posting this as I know a few of you have been waiting, and msging me, well here it is.

Warnings: For this chapter mild violence. But the rating will go up when appropriate so watch for the rating to change to T or M later on.

Please enjoy.

Shades of Grey

Cybertron

And so it started…

Flames ravaged dying cities, countless millions lost, black pillars of smoke and fire filled the once, unscarred blue sky. The day had become night and the night was filled with darkened shadows and the orange hue of hellish fire.

Thunder constantly sounded now, the planet choked, civilisation destroyed. Long dead remains and building debris crunched beneath her feet. The poisoned rain softly eroded away the remnants of what was once a living, feeling, being. She walked cautiously, her weapon hanging loosely at her side, screams echoed gently through the air, her head turned, she stopped then her slight body slowly continued its walk, her emotions hidden behind the mask protecting her face.

It was no longer safe on the surface the ones that remained there were never seen only their screams reverberated off the walls of desolate buildings. It had become Shockwave's killing field.

The figure stopped suddenly, she crouched down and gently placed her slender hand onto the wasteland beneath her feet. She felt the vibrations gradually getting stronger. Soon it was audible. She no longer crouched, she ran, fast, over charred remains and broken buildings.

She halted at a partially destroyed building, once a part of Praxus's council towers, empty and dead. A hatch was lifted she climbed inside. It closed behind her with a faint click.

Over the horizon it came, large, menacing and looming closer. It clanged and hissed it was larger than any buildings left standing. The metallic creature halted and scanned the area. The machine cast no shadow, fires and distant laser fire gave it a red glow mixed with the haunting glow of its components, it slowly came to life and presently continued on its way.

Morning was born, and the acid rain fell heavily from the sky onto the dying land below, only the faintest shimmers of light broke through the torrent of sheer, poisonous liquid.

Cybertron cried and groaned, shook…its burden too heavy to carry now, it had been crushed and burned, scarred forever…And so it started…

Moonracer felt strong hands guide her down the hatch, gripping at her waist. She landed lightly shooting Hot Rod a wry grin. "You wanted to cop a feel mech, you should have just asked."

Hot Rod backed away stammering as Kup chortled beside him. "She's messin' with ya kid." The old mech shook his head. "Will ya ever learn?"

Moonracer gave a friendly punch in Hot Rod's tense arm as she sauntered past him. "He's a mech they never learn."

"Hmphf, last time I fraggin' help her." The young mech grumbled, allowing Kup to put an arm round his shoulders and guide him after the femme.

"Don't take it so personally kid; we got to have something to lighten up the cycles around here." He patted him on the back plates as they entered the control centre.

"Moonracer, report?" Elita One stole a quick glance at the femme, casting a nod of acknowledgement in the mechs' direction.

"It's not looking' good out there." Moonracer sighed; placing her weapon in Springer's waiting hands. "Shockwave has the Primus damned drones everywhere. He almost had me up there for a klik." Moonracer stared at her superior with sadness in her optics. "We're losing and we're losing bad."

Elita sighed giving a quick once over around the room before turning to the small mech huddled over one of the still working consoles. "Blurr, have we heard anything from Ultra's team?"

"Not since his last communiqué 'Lita. They were taking some heavy damage, he tried to tell me something before he was cut off but I only managed to record the latter end of it and I don't know what to make of it, it has me a little rattled if I'm honest…"

"BLURR!" The room rang out with the mutual cry of irritation from all those present.

Elita One frowned and Blurr looked crestfallen. She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Just play it Blurr."

"…_garbled…._taking heavy fire…._static…._ ompromised Earth has been…_unintelligible_… word from Prime. Shockwave knows our location, we don't know how. Just get out fall back to Praxus's grand…._garbled_….you there. Will fill you in then. Ultra out."

"That does not sound good." Chromia was the first to speak up. "He mentioned Earth and Prime; do you think something could have happened?"

"'Course not!" Hot Rod retorted indignantly. "Prime's probably got everything under control. If anyone can help us he can."

"Are ya glitchin' mech!" Springer snorted. "Prime doesn't even know we're still alive out here."

A soft voice interrupted the beginnings of his rant. "He knows."

Springer met Elita One's stern gaze and fell silent. She glanced around the room and reiterated. "He knows. First thing we need to do is gather up all the supplies we can carry. Everything else gets left behind."

"Where are we going?" Moonracer frowned.

"To the Grand Palace in the centre of Praxus. It will be the safest place to hide."

"But it was completely destroyed!" Moonracer retorted in frustration. "It could be a trap."

Elita gave her a stern glare. "Ultra wouldn't have told us to go there, Shockwave also knows it's destroyed, he won't think to look for us there. There is nothing for him."

"There's nothing for us either." Springer grumbled.

"I have it on good authority that the palace extended far below the surface. What we saw was merely a fraction of what was below ground."

Springer frowned at his commander. "Whose authority? Every mech who lived here was wiped out."

Hot Rod snapped his fingers in excitement. "Wouldn't happen to be a certain SIC you're thinking of there?"

Elita smiled and nodded. "Him and Smokescreen actually. They gave me the downloaded maps for the underground part of the palace they had converted into a bunker shortly after Praxus was destroyed."

"And they never told anyone?"

"They didn't want to risk it falling into the wrong hands. Only five of us are aware of its existence. There's energon, fuel, shelter and weapons there."

Chromia chuckled and shook her head. "My, my Prowl doesn't do things by halves does he?"

"That he doesn't." Elita agreed as they began gathering up their supplies. "Get to work! We have a long few cycles ahead."

Chromia and Elita left the room sporting their loads, heading to their one and only transport vessel.

"Elita?"

"Mm…"

"Do you really think…? Prime, the others will come… you know when we get word to them?"

Elita dropped her gaze, her optics dimming. "I do Chromia." She answered even as her spark fluttered in disbelief. They had been gone so long, with no means of return other than the spacebridge and that was still under Shockwave's iron control. "Let's hope that whatever Ultra has heard from them is good news."

Chromia made a non-committal noise and they continued the rest of the way in silence, lost in their own thoughts, plagued by doubt and fear.

Ultra Magnus glared out across the grey, broken landscape. His weapon was hot, recently fired. They were pinned and Shockwave's sentinels were out there waiting. He growled softly in his chest, even Wheelie nearby was uncharacteristically quiet. Movement behind him caught the attention of his sensors.

"Did it get through?" He asked his voice stern, steady.

Firestar dropped to a crouch beside him. "There was interference, we detected a signal receipt but we have no way of knowing if they're even…"

"It got through." Ultra Magnus repeated.

The femme gave a curt nod, drawing her weapon. She narrowed her optics as she scoped the lay of the land. "Any word?"

"Not yet."

"How long?"

"Too long." The large mech let out a weary sigh. "He's over a cycle late."

"Do you think they got out ok?"

Ultra Magnus remained silent. He didn't want to think about the alternatives if they hadn't. Between the sentinel drones and Shockwave's search, capture and experimentations, they had already lost too many.

Firestar shifted and touched her audio. He shot her a questioning glance. "What is it?"

"Arcee's on her way in." She gave him a tiny smirk. "We got a transmission."

"Best news I've heard all cycle." Ultra turned his attention back to the horizon and smiled. "Looks like we're on a roll." He readied his weapon as a sleek white jet appeared on the skyline.

"Wheelie pack up we're leaving."

The small 'bot turned and smiled for the first time that cycle. Ultra shot the Firestar a wry grin as the jet opened fire on the hidden sentinels, drawing them out into the open.

"Ready to take out some scrap metal?"

Firestar grinned as Ultra launched himself over their defences and raced towards the large heavily armed drones.

"I thought you'd never ask." She growled and pivoted over the ledge, speeding after her commander with Wheelie following in quick pursuit.

They managed to distract the first drone enough to allow the jets to pick it off from the sky. A thunderous crash shook the debris littered surface as the drone fell. The white jet roared over their heads, coming in for a less than graceful landing. Ultra inhaled sharply with shock as the black scars etched across the once pristine white hull came into view.

Another smaller jet flew overhead, drawing the second drone away from their immediate position. A third drone appeared over the horizon, laser fire ripped through the air.

"We have to get out now!" The white jet cried out urgently.

Ultra gestured to Firestar and Wheelie. "Get on!"

"What about you?" Firestar shouted back over the deafening rumble of the approaching drone.

"Just go!" Ultra roared. "I'll draw its fire."

Firestar snarled in frustration and grabbed Wheelie as she ran to the waiting jet. "Get us out of here!"

"What about Ultra Magnus?" The ship demanded.

"Now Sky Lynx!"

The ship sighed and powered up his engines. "Understood."

The slick jet lifted and made a single pass around the drone firing his entire arsenal in an attempt to give Ultra Magnus a fighting chance. He accelerated and soared into the dark sky. "They have a weapons lock on us!" He cried out. "Brace for impact!"

Ultra watched them leave noticing the drones' weapons trained on their escape and with a clenched jaw sprinted towards the two drones, transforming as he reached them. Cutting a path between their gigantic legs Ultra transformed and fired at both drones before transforming and accelerating as fast as he could away from them.

Momentarily distracted the drones focused their weapons on their assailant. Firestar peered down onto the surface watching his valiant effort. "He did it." She whispered as they made their escape.

Ultra knew his number was up, there was no way he could outrun both drones with the energy reserves he had left. He wasn't going to make it easy for them. He braked and skidded to a halt, turning to face his pursuers, he readied his weapon. He was fully prepared to die, but not before making as much damage as he could.

His optics widened as a small green jet plummeted at terrifying speed towards the surface. He stood and stared at its approach with growing concern. It carried out an impressive loop before swooping low to the ground and heading straight for him.

Part transforming the small jet slammed into Ultra eliciting a yelp from the large blue and white mech as the ground fell away beneath him at terrific speed.

"Need a lift Sir?" Called out the smug voice.

Ultra glanced up at the green arms hooked firmly under his shoulders. "Cutting it a bit fine aren't you Acid Storm?"

The jet chuckled good-naturedly. "Well you know how it is Sir, traffic is just murder today."

Ultra shook his head and vented a cycle of air in relief as they followed Sky Lynx's signal. It wasn't long before the smaller, faster Autobot jet caught up to the white ship.

"Permission to come aboard." Ultra shouted across to Sky Lynx who immediately opened his side entrance. They matched speeds and Ultra caught onto the frame of the hull to steady himself before a pair of hands grabbed him and hauled him inside.

Firestar glared at him. "I'd rather you didn't put in for that martyr of the stellar cycle award, if it's all the same to you." She huffed, disgruntled.

Ultra groaned and fell back against the cool hull of the ship. "Duly noted." He shot her a grateful smirk and tapped Sky Lynx's interior. "Take us to Praxus Sky Lynx."

"Affirmative Commander."

The white jet soared through the sky, flanked by Acid Storm. Rising his above the destroyed city of Iacon, they were soon joined by another ship.

Ultra's smile widened as Omega Supreme's deep vocals rumbled through the comm.

"Glad to have you with us Omega." Ultra replied. "How are your passengers?"

"Autobots on board. Some injured. None critical."

"That's good." Ultra nodded. "Sky Lynx, what's our ETA?"

"We should be approaching the grand palace within the cycle Commander."

Firestar looked up from where she was studying the city blueprints. "The palace?" She frowned. "There's nothing left there."

Ultra met her optics. "And that' exactly what we want Shockwave to keep thinking."

"What aren't you telling us?" Firestar stared at him, silently demanding an explanation.

Ultra shuttered his optics with weary fatigue. "Don't worry 'Star, I'll answer all your questions just as soon as we get there."

The femme shook her head and sighed. "If we get there." She muttered.

Sky Lynx chose that moment to sound the alert. "Decepticon drones dead ahead."

Ultra was up instantly, his weapon ready. Leaning out of the still open door, keeping a tight hold of the frame, he peered down to the surface. "Omega, Sky Lynx are you ready for this?"

"No time like the present." Sky Lynx replied with his usual air of confidence.

"Omega ready."

Ultra clenched his jaw. "Let's get this done; we've got friends down there." He charged his weapon. "Could be the only ones we've got left." He muttered, avoiding the worried glances from Firestar and Wheelie.

The femme frowned. Ultra knew something, something about Prime's team on Earth, that was the only explanation for suddenly relocating to Praxus and instructing Elita's team to do the same. Her spark jumped in her chest. Maybe Prime was returning. Maybe they had finally defeated Megatron and were coming home to finish the war once and for all. Clutching on to that small spark of hope, Firestar charged her weapon and gave a short nod of acknowledgement to Ultra, who shot her a small, confident smile.

The three ships decelerated and dived towards the once beautiful city of Praxus. They headed straight for the line of sentinel drones surrounding the remains of the grand palace. These were the same drones that had lain waste to the neutral city in the early stages of the war.

Now, Ultra thought, it was high time for payback. They weren't going to stop until they took back what was theirs.

The large, powerful cannons charged and shifted until they pointed directly at the approaching ships. An audio shattering whine filled the air as they took aim and fired.


	2. Losses

A/N: So I'm posting this every two weeks, it gives me chance to recover from the bitch that is RL. We'l be back on Earth in chapter 3

Warning: Death, tissues.

/comm speak/

"Evasive manoeuvres!" Ultra Magnus boomed as the drones unloaded their massive weapons upon them.

Sky Lynx bucked hard to avoid a pulse blast and narrowly escaped colliding with Omega Supreme.

"We need a distraction! We can't take them all on at once!" Firestar yelled, opening fire on the nearest Sentinel as Sky Lynx swooped low to the ground.

Ultra's optics caught a flash of green. Acid Storm was running rings around one of the large drones, confusing its sensors.

/'Storm can you keep that up? We need to gain a little ground here./

The small Aerialbot hovered in front of the Sentinel's helm and opened fire at close range. The optic exploded with a burst of sparks and electricity. Thrown off balance by the force of the blow, the now blind drone stumbled to the side, knocking another as it opened fire on Omega. Its shot went wide, managing to only graze the shuttle.

/That's it 'Storm! Just like that!/

Ultra leaned dangerously far out of the hatch in Sky Lynx's side. His strong hand gripped onto the white metal, while his other sported a large gun. /Sky Lynx, can you get us lower? We need to take out its primary capacitor, while 'Storm distracts them./

/Can I?/ The white jet snorted haughtily. /You forget who you're speaking to./ He let out a confident laugh and dipped his nose towards the surface. / Hold onto your sparks kids, it's going to get bumpy!/

The jet skilfully ducked and weaved past pulse blasts, drawing closer to the line of drones.

/NOW Sky Lynx!/ Ultra roared.

With a painful whine of his engines, the jet pulled upwards sharply. Accelerating vertically in front of the nearest drone, Sky Lynx got them a clear shot of the drone's chest cavity. All three 'bots inside the ship opened fire, emptying their weapons into the large chest that housed its central power unit.

In a blinding white flash, the power core exploded, causing the 'bots to avert their optics as Sky Lynx performed a death defying loop to escape the blast radius.

Peering out of the hatch, Ultra smirked, watching the drone sputter and drop to the ground with a rumbling groan. /Omega, the next one's all yo—gaahhh!/

Ultra's comm was cut off as a laser cannon blast slammed into Sky Lynx's side. The jet was forced into a terrifying spin, trying frantically to regain control. The g-forces increased exponentially as they raced towards the surface. Ultra cried out as he felt the weight increase all around his frame, crushing him into the floor of the shuttle. His vision blurred at the dizzying spin, his gyros unable to compensate.

Firestar clenched her jaw tightly and fought with everything she had, not to purge her tanks. Her optics off-lined and thinner armour plates began to buckle beneath the increasing pressure, causing her to hiss in pain as her processor felt like it was about to implode.

Ultra gripped onto the hatch frame, his fingers curled round as tightly as possible. Firestar and Wheelie lunged for the edge of the second hatch and held on for dear life. Wheelie whined as she struggled to keep hold, her spark lurched in her chest as her fingers slipped from the edge. Her optics met Firestar's in a spark stopping moment.

Time seemed to freeze around them; Firestar reached out her fingers brushing against Wheelie's but it was not enough to grab onto the little 'bot before she was flung from the ship.

"WHEELIE!"

The femme's scream pierced through the air, her hand still reaching out to the empty space where her friend had been.

Arcee fired with fatal precision, into the optic of another drone. Laser fire ripped along the underside of Omega's hull, causing the giant Autobot to roar in pain, energon and hull plating stripped from his frame. The force of the blow sent them careening away from the fight.

"Breakaway, take point, I need to re-load!" Arcee yelled.

Breakaway scrambled as best he could along the ship as it veered sharply to the right. He let out a frustrated growl as they flew straight into the path of another drone.

The lumbering form swiped at them, attempting to bat them from the sky.

Arcee hissed as her spark pumped hard in her chest. This was not going well. "Omega can you get control?"

"Omega, struggling. Engines overheating. Require Autobot pilot."

"Frag!" Arcee swore, as they bucked hard again, sending the 'bots to the floor. Arcee's weapon was knocked from her grasp and skated along the smooth plating. "Hot Shot take the nav'!"

"What? I'm no slaggin' pilot!" Shot back the mech, letting rip another salvo from his cannon, snarling when the impacts had little to no effect on the reinforced outer shell of the drone.

"Just do it! NOW!" Arcee commanded, finally crawling to her weapon. Omega shook with exertion all around them.

"Gaaahhh!" Slinging his weapon over his shoulder, Hot Shot raced to the controls. "Alright Omega, work with me here."

"Acknowledged. Omega ready."

Arcee vented a quick cycle of air when the ship finally began to level out. Breakaway got a clean shot into the drone's chest, taking out a circuit relay. Slowed but not deterred the sentinel drone continued to press its advantage.

Arcee and Breakaway both flinched when a thunderous boom rocked the air, pounding into the hull of Omega Supreme. Arcee's optics brightened in horror, when Sky Lynx was sent plummeting to the ground.

A shocked gasp escaped her vocaliser when something was thrown from the ship due to the sheer g-forces the spin was inducing. It hurtled towards them and they could only watch as it thumped into Omega's nose.

"Primus!" Hot Shot exclaimed. Omega shuddered as the mech jerked the controls in surprise. "What the frag was that?"

"I think that… was a who…" Breakaway murmured, his optics wide, his voice a tremor in his throat.

Arcee gritted her denta and gave a quick slap to the mech's shoulder. "Focus! Let's take this piece of scrap out."

"You got it Arcee."

Both 'bots unloaded their full arsenal at the Sentinel, forcing the drone to stagger backwards.

"Omega losing power. Must land."

Arcee shot a glance out at the struggling Sky Lynx and shook her head when the fourth drone moved to intercept them. "If we land Omega, they die!"

The shuttle was silent for a second. Before his rumbling vocals filled their audio. "Omega Supreme will protect the Autobots."

"Arcee what are you thinking?"

The once pink femme, now tarnished by stellar cycles of fighting, held the mech's questioning gaze intently. "They need Ultra Magnus, more than they need us. He's the only leader we have." She hesitated willing her voice not to fail her. "Break'…I…"

Breakaway stared at Arcee's fierce tone and clenched his jaw at the unspoken question visible on her determined faceplates. He smiled darkly and re-loaded his weapon. "I'm with ya, all the way."

She nodded and smiled gratefully, turning to the other mech who was already waiting for her. "Hot Shot?"

"I'm already on it."

The shuttle swung round and headed straight for the Sentinel bearing down on Sky Lynx. Arcee placed her palm against the cool internal hull plating of Omega and off-lined her optics for a moment. "Thank you Omega." She whispered.

The large ship accelerated in response and roared at full speed towards the drone.

"Sky Lynx!" Firestar screamed.

"GAAAHHH!... I've almost… got it...!"

The white jet managed to slow the spin, blowing out one of his thrusters in the process and bolted back up to the sky, only to be knocked off course by the powerful arm of the attacking drone.

Ultra's comm buzzed frantically. /Acidstorm you still with us?/

/Sir…. Omega…/

Ultra turned sharply in time to see Omega Supreme barrelling straight for the Sentinel threatening to destroy Sky Lynx. "No…" He breathed, unable to tear his optics away.

"Primue NOOOOO!" He roared, his intakes stalling when Omega rammed into the Sentinel at full speed.

"Oh my…" Sky Lynx uttered, quickly veering away from the subsequent explosion.

The 'bots stared in horror as Omega Supreme, one of the most powerful Autobots ever created, disappeared into a white, hot flash of liquid metal and electricity.

Metal hull plating was shredded as it decimated the drone, sending it crashing into the adjacent Sentinel. The vapour and explosion consumed everything around it, sucking in the debris. All sound was stolen from the air before the shockwave flared outward with a gush of chaotic noise. It slammed into Sky Lynx who bodily turned and rode out the explosion.

"But… how…?" Firestar whimpered, her knees buckling as she thought of her friends burning behind them.

"The energon on board… they must have known… what it would do… how powerful…" Ultra mumbled, his optics staring at the fiery plume rising up into the sky. He felt numb, was this all there was left to fight for? His fists clenched at his sides as Sky Lynx circled the destruction from a fair distance away.

His attention was drawn to the smaller green plane taking up flank on Sky Lynx's left wing. His comm buzzed once more.

/What is it 'Storm?/

/I… ummm I have a signal…/

Blue optics snapped towards the green jet. /Omega? Arcee?/

The Aerialbot paused. /Elita./

Ultra Magnus could hear the sad smile in the young mech's voice.

/They're alive, they got your message. They'll be here within the orn./

Ultra off-lined his optics and took a deep intake of air. /That's good news 'Storm./

On-lining his optics, Firestar noted how his dutiful mask was back in place on his faceplates. "Sky Lynx, you got their signal?" His steady voice filled the ship.

"Affirmative, it's weak but I can track it."

Ultra nodded. "Let's meet them half way. We'll guide them the rest of the way home." He stared out once more at the fading cloud of dust, smoke and fire.

Home.

Ultra Magnus wasn't sure he knew what that meant anymore.


	3. Regrets

A/N: Right on schedule. And here's a little taster of what's happening on earth. Not beta'd so please be kind.

/comm. speak/

Earth

His exposed circuits stung as the cold air hit them. The places where the plating had been damaged had warped and in parts, had split exposing his protoform beneath. He could still transform and that was where he was now sat. His alt mode looking like a battered wreck of a police car that had been at the wrong end of a high speed chase.

His internal repair systems were working over time to get him stable enough to move. The seekers he'd been able to evade thanks to latent knowledge he hadn't even known he'd had, that had filtered through the forced bond with Thundercracker before it had been broken. Soundwave on the other hand had cornered him and he had almost lost a door wing in his escape.

He'd slipped into stasis after disguising his spark energy by parking close to a decommissioned nuclear power station and was only now able to take in the situation. He hadn't risked contacting the base; the last thing he remembered seeing as he fled for his life was the Autobots being led back to Ark in stasis cuffs. They had lost the battle with Megatron and it had been his fault.

Prowl sank on his suspension, guilt and shame at fleeing the Ark, gnawed at his processor. He'd abandoned them all; he daren't open the bond out of sheer terror of what he'd find at the other end. He knew that his bond mates wouldn't judge him and would be worried about him but Prowl knew he would never forgive himself if they were being submitted to abuse or torture on Megatron's whims.

The police car's engine whined quietly, he was in the middle of the desert in the pitch black night, alone. Prowl had never felt more alone. He fought off impending stasis once more as his repair systems tried to work on the damage Soundwave had managed to inflict on his processor before he'd somehow escaped. The escape itself was a blur. Soundwave had gotten into his head, somehow and was feeding on his fears of something happening to Optimus or Jazz. The only conclusion Prowl could come to at this point was that he'd been the victim of a mind probe and something inside of him had snapped.

Flashes of memory played back to him, images of him launching at Soundwave an unearthly holler of pain filling his senses and energon covering his hands. He couldn't remember what he'd done or how he'd escaped, all he remembered was driving as fast as he could over hot desert and then finding the old power station before everything turned to black.

Prowl let out a low growl as he strained to transform. He managed to remain on his feet for a few moments before stumbling and falling to his knees. Alarms flashed across his HUD, he was dangerously low on energon and his self repair systems were struggling to fix the remaining damage. He keened softly as his stasis alert pinged him repeatedly.

"No… must stay awake… have to go back." He spoke out loud, fighting to stay conscious, he tried to stand but to no avail. After stumbling once more he fell back to the desert floor heavily. He lay on his side his frame trembling as his systems shut down one by one, Prowl finally reached out with his spark. The bond was still intact; he brushed against his bond mates' presence before withdrawing in the worry that their bond would be discovered by the Decepticons and used against them. Prowl's optics flickered as the last of his energy reserves dwindled away and his systems fell silent, his optics fading to black.

The mini-bot was grim-faced and quiet. He sat opposite the blue mech in silence, shock still very much at the fore front of their processors. They had watched, hidden beneath Mirage's cloak as their friends had been escorted back to the ark as prisoners. Some of them had looked like they had taken a beating and even Optimus had looked defeated. They were at a loss. What would become of them now? There was no way they could retake the Ark themselves, not without some kind of help.

"Frag if only Prowl was here." Bumblebee muttered sullenly, folding his arms with a faint huff.

Mirage's optics flicked toward him and held his glare for a moment as a frown slowly creased his brow. "He's not there."

Bumblebee quirked an optic ridge at Mirage in vague annoyance. "What?"

"Prowl… he wasn't with the prisoners." Mirage repeated, clearly still running through the events in his cortex.

"Everyone was there, Mirage. We saw them."

"No we didn't remember. He wasn't at the battle and Jazz thought something had happened at the base when we were making a move for Megatron."

Bumblebee snorted in irritation and looked away from the spy. "He's probably dead then –"

"– No, Bee, think about it." Mirage insisted, suddenly sitting up from his uncharacteristic slouch. "The rumours about what had happened to him and why he was in the med bay. Remember what Ironhide had said after he blew up at Jazz in the rec room."

Bumblebee frowned doubt flickering over his faceplates. "He mentioned something about them deserving each other and Optimus being a fool… but 'Raj he was angry, hurt… I don't know what went on but…"

"I overheard him talking to Ratchet not long after and I definitely heard something about an emergency spark bond. Now think about it, Jazz broke off his relationship with Ironhide, Prowl was in the med bay under quarantine and talk of an emergency spark bond." He cast the yellow 'bot one of his small knowing smirks. "Put it all together 'Bee, they're all pieces to the same puzzle."

Sighing Bumblebee relented. "But that doesn't mean Prowl is still alive and even if he is, he's a prisoner with the rest of them."

Mirage rested a hand on Bumblebee's shoulder. "It means he's alive, spark mates can't survive without the other and we saw Jazz being taken into the Ark by Megatron."

"How does that help us? We're stuck here; the base is overrun with 'cons and we have no back up." Bumblebee was on his feet now, pacing the abandoned warehouse. "We saw what was left of the 'bots that tried to defy them. They're out in the deserts right now, rotting in the sun as dead shells, Mirage! That's going to happen to all of them, you do realise that don't you!"

Mirage stood and moved quickly and took hold of the mini-bot's shoulders, Bumblebee started to protest as Mirage clasped him tightly and held him against his frame. "We, are going to find him, alright? I'm going to sneak into the base, I can use my cloak."

"It's too dangerous!" Bumblebee growled in protest, but didn't fight the tight embrace. His back was flush to Mirage's chest as the mech kneeled behind him. In any other circumstance he would have been shocked and confused by the situation, Mirage was not a mech that would willingly touch another without due cause. He felt a wave of calm wash over him as Mirage's energy field flared. The steady spark pulse behind the blue plating had a calming effect upon his own as worry bled through him.

"We have to try, Bee." Came the soft reply. "I'll not be gone long."

"'Raj, I don't know if I can just wait here while you risk your spark. I don't know what I'll do if you don't come back…I…"

"I'll come back. You can be assured of that. Wait here, wait for my signal. I _will_ bring back help."

Bumblebee relaxed somewhat and sighed softly, leaning his helm back against Mirage's chest. He gave a small nod and gasped as the warm presence left him. He heard the throaty rev of an engine as Mirage sped away over the desert and his fists balled tightly, the sudden overwhelming sense of utter helplessness permeating his very spark. Pale blue optics concentrated on the horizon of the scorching sands as he sank down to the floor with nothing to do but wait and hope.

Cybertron

Elita led the small convoy alongside the large mech. Ultra Magnus had remained quiet since their initial rendezvous which worried her and they had only mentioned Arcee briefly to tell them they wouldn't be joining them. Pulling a short way ahead of the small group, the femme pinged Ultra's comm. to get him to join her.

/What is it 'Lita?/

/Are you going to tell me what happened?/

A faint wearisome sigh sounded through their private comm. channel. /They sacrificed themselves, to save us./

/And you think they shouldn't have done?/

/It's not that it's just…/

Elita was now deeply concerned the last thing they needed was their sole leader to start losing his confidence, his nerve. This was war and doubt got mechs and femmes alike, off lined. /Ultra?/

/It's just so senseless…What _are_ we fighting for anymore?/

/A hope… for a fighting chance./

/A fighting chance? What to be hunted down like turborats by Shockwave to be used in his experiments?/

/To live, Ultra!/ Elita retorted back, her own frustration rising. /To find a home, to be reunited with Prime, to be - /

/-there'll be no reunion./

Elita's engine almost stalled at the quietly uttered statement. /What do you mean? Ultra have you heard something?/

/Elita I…/

/You've heard from Earth, haven't you? What did Optimus say is he -/

/-It wasn't Optimus…/

The femme's voice went deathly quiet. /What…?/

/Elita I'm so sorry…/

/Just tell me what it said./ She snapped, her worry and fears taking over.

Ultra Magnus hesitated momentarily. /The message was meant for Shockwave, from Megatron. We intercepted it and… they've taken Earth, Elita…/

/Prime, the others?/ Her reply was a fearful whisper.

/I don't know they weren't mentioned but the message, it came straight from Teletraan 1/

/Oh Primus./

The two 'bots drove almost the rest of the way in silence. Neither one of them could think of what to say. Everyone they knew, had ever known, everyone they had left as far as they were aware were now lying off line on an alien planet light years from home. Not that it could be called home anymore. The dead husk that used to be Cybertron was simply a killing field for Shockwave, a playground for his drones. All of the glory that was had crumbled to nothing, leaving behind only traces of the past.

They slowed their pace when they reached the remains of the sentinels. Charred, scorched metal lay scattered over the debris of the former grand palace of Praxus. No one spoke as they approached the battered sentry wall and one by one they transformed.

Blue optics took in the sight of death and destruction as they passed over as quickly as they could. Ultra was the first to reach the palace itself. Barely anything above its foundations remained. Picking their way through the entrance hall of the palace, fingertips brushed over old ornate decorations that had survived the destruction. The walls rose up around them, now open to the sky, the roof long since destroyed. Each room was as desolate as the next, each with its own tale of death.

Ultra stopped at a small door, it seemed mundane, simplistic and hidden from view. There were none of the usual locks or key pads in place, no electronics in place. The small group frowned as the large mech quickly looked around the area. With a small smile he found a long chain, which looked like it had once been part of a partition for the grand hall. With some effort he tugged the chain and with painfully slow progress the surprisingly heavy set metal door began to swing open.

"Quickly, inside all of you." He commanded quietly.

Elita paused at the doorway, her optics meeting Ultra Magnus's. "What will we do?"

Ultra Magnus could only shake his helm sadly and look away. He had no answers. If Prime had fallen then all was lost, they were the last of the Autobots left alone on a dying world. If Prime had fallen, this would be their final resting place. For there was nowhere else for them to go.

The others obeyed without question, ducking into the blackness to descend down a narrow staircase into the catacombs beneath. This had once been the resting place of many a Praxus Lord. Generations of Autobots lain to rest lovingly beneath their family home. At some point however, and with an almost callous disregard for the deceased, the underground tombs had been refitted and transformed into a bunker.

Soft gasps of surprise and awe could be heard as the Autobots entered the long cavern. The tombs had been ripped out and replaced with computers, storage, weapons and more energon than they had seen in a long few cycles.

"Who the frag managed to do all this?" Springer blurted out, his words echoing the gaping expressions from Kup and Hot Rod.

Chromia gave them an incredulous look. "Who d'you think could manage to do all this hm?"

Springer snorted, his hand brushing over what was once an ancient tomb. "There's only one mech I know that could be so sparkless as to wipe out an entire families history, slag an entire city's history of leaders."

Elita one had her arms folded as she glared at the green mech. "Sparkless, Springer?"

"Yeah, y'all know who I'm talkin' about."

Kup nodded his helm with distinct respect. "Aye lad, this could only be Prowl's work."

Springer laughed. "Yeah the coldest mech I know, just got a little colder in my book."

Elita growled lowly in her chest, prompting Firestar and Chromia to exchange worried glances.

"You think this is cold, Springer?"

The mech faltered noticing the fierce glare in the femme leader's optics. "I, ah…"

"You think this is sparkless?"

"I didn't mean nothing by it just that…"

"Just what?" The femme was furious and made sure that Springer knew it. Her smaller frame squared up to the stocky mech with a glare that would have turned a lesser mech to scrap metal. "That he predicted something like this would happen? That he had to stand and watch his entire city get wiped out before his optics and be able to do absolutely nothing to save it?"

"I uh…"

"Or that he planned ahead, he made a choice between his past and our future, in order to give us a fighting chance of survival? If that's sparkless to you, then by all means, go out there and face Shockwave, I'm sure you'll pretty quickly discover the difference."

"Elita!" Ultra Magnus intervened before Springer began to cower under the scrutiny of the fearsome femme. "That's enough… we shouldn't fight amongst ourselves."

The femme turned away with a snarl silencing Ultra Magnus with a glare before focusing her ire back onto Springer. "And another thing he didn't just wipe out any family's history, he wiped out his own family's history so we could live and find sanctuary should the unthinkable happen." Elita held his wide optic'd stare with steady optics. "Just you think about that, Springer."

With that the femme turned on her heel and marched away from the group, disappearing into one of the smaller rooms without another word.

"Whoa…" Springer, visibly relaxed. "What got into her?"

Ultra Magnus shot him a dark glare. "Elita has every right to be upset."

"I was only saying…"

"We all know what you were saying, Springer. Fact is… we may be all alone out here."

Hot Rod frowned and placed a hand on his friend's arm before he had chance to retort. "Ultra, what are you saying…?"

The blue and white mech stepped forward with a solemn expression. "I received word from Earth, but it wasn't from Prime. We intercepted a signal from Teletraan one, it was meant for Shockwave."

"But lad that would mean…"

The larger mech nodded sadly. "The Decepticons… have taken Earth."


	4. Hope

Earth

The desert seemed more barren than it usually did. No Autobot patrols, no Aerial bots flying over head. Spike and Sparkplug were painfully absent, having been sent away by Optimus before the attack in order to keep them safe.

Mirage activated his cloak as he approached the Ark. Motor master and Dead End were arguing at the entrance, while seekers circled overhead. Mirage's fist tightened over his weapon, it was taking all of his will power and restraint not to kill the two mechs on the spot. He had to get inside, had to find out the fate of his fellow Autobots, his friends, before he killed anyone.

Creeping past the oblivious 'cons; he stalked silently through the corridor. Room after room was empty but Decepticons roamed nearby, wherever he went, like an infestation. It disgusted him, he wanted nothing more than to take his blade and run them through, retribution for the mechs left to bake in the desert sun.

"Take him to that simpering medic." Onslaught's voice boomed angrily down through the hallway. "How many times do I have to tell you two?"

Vortex glowered at his gestalt mate, grabbing hold of his collar fairing. "Frag it, Swindle, I told you it wouldn't work." He growled, half dragging the mech to the med bay.

Mirage scowled as they passed him. As far as he was aware, the Decepticons didn't have a designated medic. Hopeful that he would finally get to talk to a friendly face, he followed in the bickering mechs' wake, slipping into the med bay behind them.

"Medic!" Vortex snarled, hoisting a complaining Swindle onto the berth. "Get your useless aft out here and do your job!"

Mirage's optics widened when the small, clearly terrified First Aid, exited Ratchet's office. The small mech, looked like he'd been battered with a mallet and his hands shook over Swindle's frame as he attempted to scan the mech's injuries.

"He—he's going to be fine. Has a torn fuel line. I'll p—patch it up for you now."

"Yeah you do that." Vortex glared, his impressive frame bearing down over the tiny medic.

"Be quick about it, I haven't got all day." Swindle whined, flopping back on the berth.

Vortex snorted with condescension. "Oh because you're going to be so busy, sitting on your aft."

"Yeah right next to you, fragger." Swindle retorted with a glower, receiving a swipe upside his helm for his trouble.

First Aid did his best to ignore them both, while he set to work. Mirage was impressed by the smaller mech's ability to tune out the biting remarks and deliberate goads and swallowed a growl of anger when Vortex began a tirade of intimidation against him.

"You're too fraggin' slow. Don't want to join that mouthy CMO of yours do you?"

First Aid's intakes hitched and he shook his helm, almost dropping the sealant. "There done, as good as new."

Swindle inspected his injury and grinned. "Not bad, not bad." He clapped a hand, hard on First Aid's shoulder and squeezed it, causing the mech to flinch and bite back a whine of pain. "I guess you'll be getting your ration today."

Scoffing, Vortex's rotors flared out. "First come first serve, who knows we might even make you fight for it." He gave a lurid grin to the silently submissive Autobot, encouraged by Swindle's taunting cackle.

First Aid remained rooted to the spot until the two 'cons had left. A soft keen left his vocaliser as he slumped to the floor beside the berth. Mirage approached cautiously, scouting out the rest of the med bay to ensure there were no cameras or 'cons hiding in the back rooms. His spark sank at the sight of First Aid huddled against the berth, arms wrapped around his knees, hugging them tightly, helm bowed with fatigue.

"'Aid,"

First Aid flinched and started in fear at the sound of Mirage's voice, prompting the noble to de-cloak and crouch before him.

"-hey hey, it's alright. It's me."

Reaching out with wide optics and a tentative hand, First Aid shook his head in disbelief. "Mirage, how did you…?" His intakes hitched in panic. "You can't be here they'll catch you, get out while you can."

Mirage clutched the smaller mech's shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere. I need to find out what's happened to everyone else."

First Aid whined and tried to pull away. "It's awful, 'Raj, so awful. Things he's been doing.."

"What are they doing?" Mirage's tone was hushed; dreading whatever it was that had the mech shuddering in his arms. "'Aid?" He prompted gently.

First Aid shook his helm and whispered. "They send 'bots away… and when they come back… they're different…they've done things to them…"

"Things? What things?"

"I don't know." The mech covered his face with a keen, stifling the quiet wail of despair escaping his vocaliser.

"'Aid it's alright. We're going to beat them, I promise you that." Mirage felt it in his spark, they had to beat them, or die trying.

"You can't beat them." Came the rasping whisper.

"We will, we'll help you esc—"

First Aid grabbed Mirage suddenly and held him tightly. "—they have Prime; nobody's seen him since they took over. Nobody even knows if he's even still alive."

Mirage stared dumbfounded at the frightening revelation. If Prime could fall to Megatron, then any one of them could fall. He tugged the small mech to his larger frame, holding close as First Aid curled up against him, fingers digging into his plating, with a needy desperation for familiar contact. "He's alive…"

The mech only held on tighter at Mirage's words.

"I'll find him, First Aid. I promise you, I'll find him. We'll get through this."

First Aid gave a weary nod, his systems slowing as he curled himself tightly into Mirage's comforting embrace. The noble, from what he could recall, wasn't fond of physical contact but from how tightly Mirage was holding him, it was obvious that he needed the comfort just as much as he did. He felt himself slipping into a much needed recharge. "'Raj?"

"Mm?"

"Will you stay until I go into recharge…?"

The request sounded so pathetic to his audio, something a sparkling would ask of its creator but Mirage didn't laugh, he didn't look at him with pity, he simply smiled and gave him a silent nod, his strong arms tightening about him.

"Rest now, 'Aid. You'll see me again."

"Good," he sighed softly, his optics fading to black.

Cybertron

A single red optic burned into the console. Its fiery red glow buried in black, brightened as the results started to filter through the machine. A gentle purr rumbled through his dark purple chassis, followed by a soft satisfied chuckle. Typing in a few commands, the results began to collate and form understandable patterns of intelligence, of much needed data. Pride suffused through his systems. No longer pride that he'd done his duty for Megatron; this was his creation, his masterpiece.

With a soft noise of approval, Shockwave moved through his lab, optic moving over his test subjects. Some were unconscious, too drained by the process of the machine. Those were treated like lab rats, energon lines hooked directly into their fuel tanks, keeping them alive just barely so sufficient experimentation could be carried out to ensure that the machine really was working, it wasn't just a fluke.

He had lost a few of his subjects, the ones he'd captured through his attacks on the Autobot base in Iacon and the first few Megatron had sent had been weak, feeble. Shockwave grunted with disdain as he passed the greyed out forms of two aerial bots and a handful of grounders. The rest of the first batch had been returned to Megatron as virtual drones. Their processors operating with barely a fraction of the cognitive processes they had had originally. The experiment had fried their neural circuitry, destroyed firewalls and rendered the mechs and femmes helpless against external re-programming.

In a sly move of curiosity, Shockwave had managed to save their personality sub-routines. Trapping the individual within their own body, to eek out their existence as a slave of Megatron, while still fully aware of who they had used to be and who they still were yet forever unable to express it.

If Shockwave had a mouth he would have smiled to himself at that thought. It would be seen as such cruelty but to him it was simply a means to satisfy his curiosity. His studies of behaviour and awareness being linked to the spark had involved all manner of atrocities upon Autobots. When they had almost been wiped out on Cybertron Shockwave had taken to using his own subordinates to continue his testing but Decepticon processors were wired differently. If his creation was ever going to work, he needed the mind of an Autobot; he needed it broken and malleable to his will.

With his deadly creation he would gain ultimate control, no one would be a match for him. Megatron himself would finally fear him. No longer would Shockwave, the genius of Cybertron have to bow at any inferior's feet. Strolling up to the secured vault, he keyed in the pass code and slipped inside.

He took in the vast site before him. Energy, spark energy crackled around him, feeding into the central core. It pulsated with life, it wasn't enough for sentient consciousness but Shockwave knew it wouldn't be long now. Once Megatron had given him what he'd asked for, everything would finally be under his control. Cybertron was already his; Earth was merely a speck of dust in his plans.

When Megatron gave him Prime, there would no longer be anyone left to stop him.

Earth

Mirage slipped into the control centre of the Ark, it was risky but he needed to find out where the Autobots were being held and what Megatron's plans were. It wouldn't take him long to hack into Teletraan 1 even if the command codes had been altered. Jazz had taught his team well.

Glancing around the command deck, Mirage was running in stealth mode. Cloak active, systems functioning silently. The biggest risk was Soundwave. The mech's visor and sensitive audio would pick up anything unusual, anything unexpected. Not to mention those Primus damned skittering spy bots that he had scuttling throughout the base.

The noble had had a near miss with Laserbeak, the metallic bird briefly detecting the temporal shimmer of his cloak as he'd flown by. Mirage had made a lucky escape by slipping into the maintenance shaft and climbing his way to the command deck.

Now that he was here he felt certain that he was being watched, yet there was nobody in sight. Venturing towards Teletraan with caution, he maintained a vigilant watch all about him. Surely if they were watching they would have stopped him by now.

Gaining a little more confidence, Mirage seated himself at the computer console and worked quickly. It seemed that Megatron had been sending regular convoys via the space bridge to Cybertron, could that be what First Aid had meant about the 'bots disappearing? Why were they being sent there? The only 'con Mirage could think of that would be receiving them would be…

His spark twisted in his chest, Shockwave. Quite possibly one of the most morally devoid and ethically corrupt mechs to ever be sparked. Mirage felt a shudder ripple down his back struts. "Primus only knows what he's doing to them." He muttered softly.

The command deck was suddenly infused with noise and commotion as a handful of Decepticons came on deck. Glancing over his shoulder, Mirage flinched as Soundwave met his gaze. For a split second the world seemed to stop turning as the silent 'con held his glare as if seeing straight through him and into his spark. Had he been spotted? Better question, could he make a break for it?

"Hey someone's been tampering with the controls!"

Mirage jumped up as more 'cons headed to the station next to him, his cloak still active he managed to avoid detection but as Soundwave drew closer, Mirage could almost feel the burning heat of the mech's optics on his chassis. He moved away slowly, slipping passed Soundwave who turned suddenly to face him.

Freezing on the spot, Mirage's energon ran cold as the emotionless voice filled the bridge.

"Intruder alert. Megatron to the command deck. Reason: Escaped Autobot."

Mirage didn't wait around to see what happened next, he turned and fled. There was no way he could escape the Ark while the alert had been sounded he had to find somewhere to lay low, somewhere they wouldn't look.

A door swished open just ahead and a rather irate looking Megatron exited, heading hastily for the command deck. This was his chance. Racing towards the door, Mirage bolted inside before it slid shut and locked behind him.

He pressed his palms against it, well at least nobody would think to look for him in here. He turned to survey the quarters. They were an officer's quarters, he scanned the sparse desk, noticing nothing personal, nothing clueing him into who's quarters it used to be. Something glinted in the corner of his optic and Mirage's lip components parted in surprise. Sat on a small shelf, partly covered in dust was a small crystal tree. His fingers brushed over the glass infused with soft colours. Praxus crystal.

"Prowl…" He murmured softly, no longer wondering whose quarters he was in.

"Who's there?"

Mirage jumped at the harsh demand and spun round. He stopped and stared in shock as Jazz left the backroom. His paintwork was dull, tarnished, covered in scratches and dents. His visor was broken and dim and his Autobot emblem had been painfully scorched away, leaving blackened warped metal in its place. The mech himself was barely recognisable, it was only his distinctive voice and characteristic visor that made Jazz stand out.

"Jazz…" Mirage couldn't think of much else to say, he reached out de-cloaking as he did so and gave the mech a faint smile. "We really should stop meeting like this."

Jazz stared dumbfounded at Mirage's materialisation. "'Raj, how did ya escape?"

"We were never caught. Bumblebee and I waited for your signal… it never came… then we saw you all getting led back into the Ark, we didn't know what to do."

Jazz's face broke into a smile and he limped over to engulf Mirage in a tight embrace. "I'm glad yer both alright, I was worried they'd…never mind that… ya can't be here, mech. This isn't like last time, there ain't no rescuing t' be doin' here. I'll only hold ya up. Ya have t' go…"

"I can't leave you here like this."

"Ya don't have a choice, if I disappear, Megatron's gonna know there are still 'bots out there. He'll hunt ya down." A flicker of anguish crossed Jazz's face. "Is Prowl with ya?"

Mirage's spark sank, he'd hoped Prowl was with them, somewhere in the base. He lowered his gaze and shook his helm. "We haven't seen him, are you sure he's not here?"

Jazz tapped his chest. "I'd know if he was." Black hands gripped Mirage's arms tightly. "Find him, 'Raj. He's hurt somewhere, I felt him briefly and he shut his side of the bond, he's blocking us both… please ya have t' get out. Find him, if anyone can help fix this it's Prowler."

Nodding reluctantly, a little confused and dazed at the mention of a bond - when had they gotten time to bond and wasn't Prowl with Optimus? Mirage headed towards the door, only for Jazz to grab him and drag him to the back room. "Not that way, mech. Why d'ya think I asked for these quarters, Prowl's always prepared." Jazz crouched down and removed an unassuming panel from the wall, revealing a disused ventilation shaft. "Go now, find him. I'll look after the kids alright." Jazz grinned and patted his back.

Mirage knew better. The optics may have been hidden behind a bright visor and Jazz's fear and pain may have been expertly disguised with that signature disarming crooked grin, but Mirage knew the saboteur was not alright. Sighing softly, he gave a nod and crawled into the small space. "Stay alive, Jazz."

"I intend t', mech."

"There you are."

Mirage and Jazz whirled around at the rasping vocals of Megatron. Mirage reached out for Jazz as his world turned to darkness, the panel having been pushed back in place with a sly kick from the black and white. Mirage stayed quiet and listened.

"Thought you could betray me again did you?"

"No, I don't know what ya talkin' about, mech. I've be—"

Mirage flinched as a sickening thud cut off Jazz's words. He was desperate to help but could only listen as the thumps of Megatron's fists impacting softer metal, only stopped to be replaced by that amused, cold voice.

"I'm going to make an example out of you, Jazz. Think you're so tough, I'll hear you beg for mercy if it's the last thing I do."

"I tell ya this now, fragger… my voice is going t' be the last thing ya hear but I won't be beggin' ya for nothin'…" Jazz chuckled defiantly, his voice wavering against the pain of the assault. "I'll be throwin' that mercy in yer face and I'm gonna watch ya choke on it."

"Foolish words."

Mirage heard Jazz grunt painfully as he was dragged away, he peered through the small gap, his optics met the glowing blue of Jazz's visor as he was dragged across the floor, the black and white's mouth moved slowly with one last plea.

_Find Prowl…_

Mirage's optics powered down for a moment, his palm pressing against the panel. He had to find Prowl. If he wasn't on the Ark then there was still hope, Prowl would know what to do, they'd coordinate an attack, get their friends out. "I'm coming back, Jazz, just hang in there, we're coming back."

With a heavy spark, the noble crawled on his hands and knees out of the base. The desert was cold and dark. A frosty night pierced his senses. Transforming he raced back to Bumblebee. Now they had a purpose, if nothing else right now, they had hope. A hope that was alone out there, somewhere in that vast desert, hurting in the dark.


	5. Leadership

A/N Sorry for the delay folks been writing like a crazy person for the prowlxjazz anniversary on Live Journal so this got a little behind. It's only a few days late so please enjoy.

Thanks to everyone for all your support.

/comm speak/

_bond speak_

Shades of Grey

Chapter 5

Cybertron

Her pale fingers brushed over faded steel, the glyphs and ancient writing still there beneath the tarnished metal. She couldn't read it, didn't understand ancient Praxian, there was probably no one left now who could. All she knew was that it was a name, someone that had been loved, cherished. Peering up at the modest tomb Elita wondered who the 'bot had once been and why this tomb had been preserved deep in the recesses of the vast vault they were now residing. Sighing she moved through the small room. It was cut off from the rest of the vault, the only entrance being the small door she'd stormed through. Fabric still draped over the walls and certain items, possibly once of sentimental value had kept their place on various shelves lining the walls. It was a chamber of memories, a record of a family line all but forgotten.

Elita stopped at an odd bundle leaning against the wall, dreary fabric still clinging to its sharp edges. Her fingers brushed over the soft velvet like material, dust came away with her fingers revealing a deep royal blue colour beneath. Gripping the heavy material she tugged and pulled it away from the chest it was covering. Kneeling beside it, her curiosity got the better of her and she gently opened the lid.

Lips parted in surprise at what was inside. There were a sparkling's toys, various slips of material, old, very old data files and pictures frozen on even older data pads. She gently picked one up and brushed it, her optics widened at the image and her fingers caressed the face of the young mechlet standing proudly with his creators. The glyphs beneath the picture were familiar; she glanced back at the small tomb on the other side of the room, one of the 'bots in the picture lay at rest in that very room.

A soft smile pulled at her mouth as her gaze fell on the black and white young mechlet in the picture. "Nobody would ever call you sparkless if they knew…"

"Knew what?"

Elita quickly placed the picture back and closed the lid, turning towards the voice that had interrupted her musings. Her smile faded but an inkling of warmth flickered in her optics as Ultra Magnus smiled faintly at her. "This was his home."

"Who? Prowl's?"

She nodded, getting to her feet, brushing herself off. "This must have been where he kept the things that meant a lot to him. There are pictures and old toys in the chest and I think that tomb is one of his creators. It must have hurt when he turned this place into a war room."

Ultra Magnus didn't reply, his optics taking in the various artefacts, feeling too much like he was intruding to reach out and touch the small crystal tree that caught his attention. "He's a complicated mech. I guess he felt he had no other choice."

"Price of leadership?" Elita asked bitterly, averting her gaze.

Ultra cast her a saddened look. "Price of war."

The femme shook her helm and sighed. "And when will it all become too much? When there's no one left?" Her shoulders slumped and she rubbed her face wearily. "There are no leaders anymore Ultra… there's nothing left to lead."

He crossed the room and without prompting wrapped his arms around the small femme. Too tired to protest or even display her surprise, Elita sank into the comforting embrace. It had been so long since anyone had just held her, been close to her, not since Optimus...

"Do you think they're…?"

He tightened his hold, a powerful hand gently caressing the curve of her back, soothing the tension in her frame. "Don't think like that. Prime will find a way."

She tried to push away only to be held tighter, flush to his broad chest, his spark pulsing softly beneath the plating, strong, steady. The spark of a leader. "How can you even hold onto hope now?"

"They count on us." He brushed the arch of her cheek, cupping her face to look up at him. "You are one of the greatest leaders we've ever had."

"Ultra I hardly think—"

"—hear me out." He smiled faintly, his hand caressing the fragile plating of her face, thumb just touching the corner of her mouth. "You were his right hand, you led the femmes against Shockwave's forces, it's because of you, half of those 'bots in there are still alive. They follow you because they still believe in you…as do I."

Elita's optics brightened at his words. "They look to you Ultra; you're the one they follow. You're the one I follow…" She murmured, ducking her gaze to press her faceplates against the smooth metal of his chest, listening to the steady thrum, thrum, thrum of his spark.

Ultra chuckled softly, a hand idly caressing the back of her helm. "You're blind to how they look at you. You are just as strong as Prime, in here." He gently pushed her away to tap a finger above her spark. "…and with a more fiery temper to boot."

Huffing, Elita shook her helm and started to move away. "You have to say that."

Keeping hold of her wrist, preventing her from leaving his side, he tilted his helm and regarded her curiously. "Why'd you say that?"

"Because you're my friend and you're his… was his closest friend."

Pressing his mouth into a thin line at the forlorn tone, he tugged her back towards him gently. "I still am, Elita but that's not why I say these things about you…I've always thought this way." It was his turn to look away, optics dimming with some untold regret. "I never envied Prime, his position, the burden he holds, especially when the war started…" His fingers brushed lightly over the delicate curve of the femme's face as he turned his gaze back to her. "But I did envy him."

Elita opened her mouth to say something, anything… but found no words. She could see the earnest, genuine look in his optics as he gazed at her; hear the sincerity in his voice. "I…don't know what to say…"

Smiling warmly, Ultra tilted her chin up and leant forward hesitantly, his optics flickering when she didn't pull away. "Don't say anything." A soft sigh escaped his vocaliser when their lip components finally met. It was a chaste, fleeting kiss but one he would cherish for the rest of his life, however long Primus granted him and one he had waited for, for as long as he had known the femme.

"Ultra Ma—ohh I'm sorry I didn't mean to umm…" Hot Rod looked distinctly uncomfortable and fixed his optics on the opposite wall.

The two 'bots pulled away sharply, shocked back to reality at the sudden intrusion. Their optics met for just a klik, a klik that told Ultra Magnus all he needed to know. Giving her a discreet nod and a warm, small smile, his spark fluttering in his chest when the warmth was returned in kind, he turned back to the awkward mech quirking his optic ridge in vague amusement. "It's alright Hot Rod… you're not disturbing anything."

Hot Rod grinned and rubbed the back of his helm. "Good 'cause well I wouldn't want to and I'm glad you've finally stopped dancing around each other…Springer owes me a ration of energon, he'll glitch so hard when I tell him." The red mech laughed at their expressions and shrugged shaking his helm. "Never mind, you didn't hear that."

Ultra shook his helm and managed an incredulous glare at his babble. "Was there something of importance you wished to tell us?"

Hot Rod's grin faded and he nodded solemnly. "Kup found a long range scanner at the back with the weapons…"

Elita stepped forward a frown marring her features. "Hot Rod what is it?" Her voice was soft, devoid of worry, that was the last thing the mech needed right now.

"It's Shockwave; his drone army is on the move… they're heading straight for Praxus…"

The two leaders shot each other a sombre look and Elita gave Hot Rod's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Get everyone in this room, my scans tell me it shields spark signatures, gather as many weapons and as much energon as you can, we have no time to lose."

"What are you thinking, 'Lita?"

She shot Ultra Magnus a wry humourless grin over her shoulder as she followed Hot Rod out of the room. "I'm thinking that Shockwave is hoping we're the last."

"We are the last…"

"Exactly, so he's going to launch everything he has to make sure he does the job right this time."

Realisation flickered over Ultra's face as he approached. "He'll throw everything at us." He repeated softly.

"Mmhmm…" She quirked an optic ridge at him, leading him to his next statement.

"The space bridge."

A dark smile flickered across her face. "The space bridge."

"It's risky."

"A risk we have to take." She held out her hand to the approaching mech a look of finality crossing her face.

Meeting her earnest gaze he gave her a knowing nod and clasped her hand tightly. "I'm with you."

She smiled a warm smile that made his spark melt in his chamber. A smile that had only ever been reserved for one other, her words that followed cemented his desire to follow the femme wherever she led.

"I know."

Earth

Jazz struggled against his captors, grunting when he landed on the metal grill of the floor. His intakes heaved with the effort, his usual energon ration insufficient to keep him on his feet, no matter how hard he tried to pick himself up.

The Decepticons jeered around him as his arms were yanked behind him and secured tightly. He didn't bother to resist, reserving his energy to sustain his more important functions. His broken visor flickered as his gaze fell on his fellow Autobots held on the command deck. First Aid trembled in Soundwave's grasp, his optics staring at the floor. Bluestreak whimpered as he was grabbed by the door wing and yanked to the floor when he tried to reach for Jazz. The saboteur growled low in his throat and tensed in his bonds. He was going to kill every last one of them, his spark pulsed hard and a wave of calm enveloped him.

_Optimus?_

_I'm alright…_

_Don't lie t' me. _

_I'm better than you'll be if you don't calm down. _

'_Raj was here… they caught me helpin' him, I'm done for. _

_Jazz…_

_S'alright… they're not gonna take me without a fight…he's gonna find, Prowl… he's out there. It won't be for nothin'._

He braced himself as Megatron hauled him to his feet, picking him up and displaying him to the rest of the Decepticons like a broken doll. "You will all learn that obedience is key to our survival." His voice lowered to a darker tone. "And all those that take it upon themselves to disobey shall be punished accordingly."

Jazz struggled weakly as he was dragged to an odd looking berth set up in the middle of the command deck. It didn't look like any torture or interrogation device he'd been trained to resist. "I didn't realise ya were in t' public 'facin' Megatron…have t' say you're kinkier than I took ya for."

Megatron growled and lifted Jazz's slight frame and slammed him viciously onto the berth, his sharp fiery optics silencing the snickers that echoed around the room. His dark leer returned at the sight of the Autobots forced to kneel around the berth and watch. Their blue optics were bright with fear and loathing, he leaned over Jazz with satisfaction. "Oh laugh now Autobot… while you can. I can assure you, you won't be laughing afterward."

"Ya got that right; I'll be too busy rippin' off your head…"

Megatron laughed coldly and straightened. "We had an Autobot intruder on board, who escaped. I want to know who it was and how many of them there are and where I can find them or your beloved Jazz here will suffer their fate."

"If you think they're gonna tell ya anything, ya got a screw loose Megatron." Jazz spat, straining against the larger mech's weight as he pinned him to the berth with a single heavy hand.

Silence filled the command deck, Jazz's intakes whirred, he refused to allow fear to creep over him, instead allowing the bond to open just a fraction more. Optimus's resounding strength and affection coursed through him and Jazz held on tightly. He brushed Prowl's side of their bond; finding it still cold, empty. A soft keen threatened to escape Jazz's vocaliser at the absence of the tactician's steadfast presence. Optimus pulled him back, wrapped him in his presence and Jazz let the rest of the room fall away for that brief moment.

_Don't fear for him… he's alive…_

_I know._ Jazz allowed Optimus to see what Mirage had told him and a fresh wave of hope infused his spark. He held onto it tightly as the tension in the room shifted.

"If none of you have the courage, so be it." Megatron nodded to Soundwave who unlocked the command doors. Shocked, fearful gasps from the imprisoned Autobots brought in to witness his punishment, had Jazz straining to see what had changed. His optics darkened visibly behind his cracked visor and his head fell back on the berth with resignation.

Sunstreaker growled and suddenly struggled against Bonecrusher who barely even registered his protest. "Monster!" He cried out, his anger and frustration palpable.

Megatron quirked an optic ridge at the commotion. "Bonecrusher, silence your pet before I do it for you."

"Not mine. Didn't want him."

"Shut up, idiot." Brawl nudged him and grabbed hold of the front liner, receiving a punch for his troubles before flinging him to the floor, kicking him roughly when he landed to silence his tirade. "I think he's entertaining." He muttered quietly glaring at Bonecrusher.

Bonecrusher shrugged and stared down at the Autobot now curled up on the floor in pain, "Hate you and your entertainment."

"Seems your reputation precedes you, Shockwave." Megatron smirked at the newcomer.

Jazz off lined his optics for a moment, taking a deep intake of air trying to quash the rising panic in his systems. They all knew about 'bots being picked off and sent to Cybertron to be experimented on for Primus knew what. Most never returned. The ones that had were never the same.

"I am flattered by the recognition, Lord Megatron. I only live to serve you." Drawled the scientist as he approached the specially designed berth.

"You're a slaggin' abomination!" Hollered Sideswipe from the other side of the command deck, promptly silenced by a quick grab of his helm by Motormaster, his large hand covering the red mech's mouth, muffling his angered shouts.

Megatron chuckled and stepped to one side. "The floor is yours."

Shockwave approached with a grateful nod. This wasn't the 'bot he wanted but it was Megatron's favourite, he was slowly warming the 'con leader up to do his bidding. It wouldn't be long before he had the spark he needed. Jazz stiffened and bit back a cry when a wire embedded itself into the side of his helm, entering his cortex through one of the minute access ports. He snarled and cried out when his chest plates began to shift apart and open, revealing his chamber.

"..No!" He choked back his fear, unwilling to beg.

Shockwave scanned over him slowly, his single optic boring into him with fierce, terrifying intensity. "This will not do."

Megatron frowned and stepped forward snapping with impatience. "What is it? I thought you said you could demonstrate the process."

"And I can, Lord Megatron, but this was not accounted for."

"What are you talking about?"

"This 'bot is bonded to another. This experiment will likely kill his bonded half."

A dark smirk spread across Megatron's faceplates as hushed, fearful murmurs whispered through the room. "Continue."

"But, my Lord… I can learn so much more… I—"

"—I said, continue."

Shockwave bristled beneath his thick armour and bowed his helm in a forced show of respect. Denied once more, he reached up, his hand transforming into a probe, designed to inspect damaged sparks and he bent over the black and white now at his mercy.

Ironhide clenched his fists; there was nothing he could do. He gripped the arm of the trembling medic beside him, offering what little comfort he could. /It'll be alright, 'Aid, Jazz is strong…/

/But his bonded…?/ First Aid whimpered softly.

Tightening his grip, Ironhide grimaced. He out of everyone present knew exactly who Jazz was bonded to. Ratchet was the only other one but he had been missing along with Prime since their capture. /His bonded are strong, he'll be alright trust me./

/They? You know who it is…don't you?/ The medic stole a fleeting glance at the red 'bot.

/Let's just say I have every faith Prime and Prowl are still alive./

First Aid's optics widened in astonishment and he stared at the floor. /Both of them?/

/Keep it to yourself, I'm only tellin' ya so ya can help Jazz once that fragger is through with him. Need to know what ya dealin' with/

/But… Oh no../

"STOP!"

Shockwave paused in surprise at the fearful, panicked yell.

Ironhide stared in disbelief and growing horror as the medic freed himself from his grasp and met Megatron's irritated glare.

"I know who it is…the escaped Autobot, I know where to find him… just don't hurt Jazz…please."

"'Aid, no…" Jazz snapped his helm around, his optics imploring the medic to say no more. "Don't do this; I'm not worth this…"

"I'm sorry, Jazz… I can't… the weakest won't survive this…"

Jazz frowned at the cryptic words, shaking his helm at the medic. "I don't understand what he's talkin' about… he doesn't know anything!"

"Interesting." Megatron purred, satisfied his ploy had worked. "Shockwave, cease your experiment."

"May I keep the specimen my Lord?"

Megatron scoffed and waved dismissively. "Do as you wish. Tell me your results when you're done." He leaned closer his commanding voice a low, dangerous growl. "I do not pretend to understand what you're up to, Shockwave… but he is to remain online and returned to me once you're finished, along with your most recent results of whatever you've been doing on Cybertron. Is that clear?"

Shockwave dimmed his single optic and bowed his helm in submission. "Crystal, Lord Megatron." Came the flat voice.

"Do not test my patience any longer than you already have." Megatron pulled away and gestured to Soundwave. "Take the medic to my office. Extract everything he knows."

Jazz roared in anger and fought against the iron grip of the purple mech. "HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING. LET HIM GO!"

His optics met those of the medic's as he was corralled into the office by Soundwave, a small sad smile crossed First Aid's face before he was hidden from view.

_Optimus…! _

_I know. They're making us watch._

_What do I do?_

_He knows something. He's not a traitor, Jazz. Trust him._

_Soundwave will…_

_I know, Jazz… I know…_


	6. Placebo effect

A/N: And here's where I change the rating folks! I hope you like this chapter, I'm sorry for the wait. Thank you to all my wonderful reviews and favourites you folk really make this stuff worth while. Please enjoy! ^_^

_He ran as quick as his little legs could carry him, his giggles of glee echoing around the gardens, cascading off of crystals trees making them tinkle softly. His winglets flapped and fluttered with excitement as his creator chased him around the corner of their home._

_The mech's voice followed the sparkling, tinged with amusement and affection as the small black and white tried to hide behind one of the larger trees. His creator stood back and laughed at the sight. His sparkling's door wings were twitching whenever the crystals bumped against him and his position was magnified and reflected through the clearer crystals. He could tell the mechlet was trying his very best to stay quiet, cycling down his systems so he wouldn't be tracked by his intakes. Shaking his helm the mech crept around the tree and pounced on the little black and white, who shrieked with delight._

_"Living up to your name aren't you little one?" The mech smiled and nuzzled his creation as he lifted him into his arms. The sparkling reached for him, grabbing tightly and snuggling against his warm plating, clicking quietly at his creator with excited glee._

_"The mechlet is a bright one; I wouldn't be surprised if he could answer back in the coming cycles."_

_The mech turned to face the newcomer, bowing his helm in greeting. "Brother, what a pleasant surprise." The mech smiled faintly, clutching the wriggling sparkling who reached out for the new mech. "I think your tutoring will pay off, I was so worried he'd be a slow learner."_

_The purple mech smiled and took hold of the sparkling gently, lifting him into his arms with a gentle coo. "Mm, he is progressing faster than I anticipated, you needn't have worried."_

_"I know but my bonded has been beside herself with concern, he was so weak when he was sparked and the connection between them took so long to strengthen."_

_Resting a hand on his brother's shoulder, the purple mech nodded in understanding. "My tests will confirm whether, young Prowl has a defective spark. My sibling's worries should be put at ease when they're completed. In her condition it is unwise for her to be unduly concerned, she needs to regain her strength."_

_The mech sighed and brushed light fingertips over the fluttering winglets of his creation, receiving a giggled chirr from the small sparkling. He smiled at him and brushed his cheek. "You be good for Shockwave now, Prowl."_

_The sparkling stilled obediently in Shockwave's arms and smiled at his creator._

_Turning back to Shockwave, the mech gave a resigned sigh. "The medics advised against this treatment… said it was experimental."_

_"It is, but it will work. You have to trust me."_

_"I do, Shockwave, I do. You've been so good to us. I don't know how I can ever repay you."_

_The red orb set in the strange helm of his brother's - by bonding alone – glowed softly. Shockwave gave a squeeze of his shoulder. "Think nothing of it, seeing Prowl grow up healthy and strong is my only desire at this point. I will ensure that he makes you proud." With another brief nod, Shockwave turned and headed back into the palace._

_The smaller mech watched him leave, waving at his sparkling who laughed and waved at him over Shockwave's shoulder. His smile faded and he lowered his arm slowly, silently praying to Primus he was doing the right thing._

Stirring from forced stasis, the police car creaked and groaned in the baking sun. His processor churned over the long buried memory. The image of his creator's fading smile and worried optics burned into his cortex. Why would he memory purge now and why that particular memory? Prowl didn't, couldn't at this moment understand. His systems were running on fumes, most of the non-essential systems had cycled down, energon redirected to his spark chamber in order to keep him alive. He was going to die; he could feel his spark weakening. Only the subtle, barely there tug of his bonded told Prowl there was still something to save.

The desert felt like the pits themselves. Prowl shunted his final energon reserves to scan for signs of life. More specifically Cybertronian life, even if the Decepticons found him, it was likely they would provide him with energon in order for him to survive any interrogation they wished to subject him to. He had to live. For his bonded if nothing else. If he fell into stasis lock now, he wasn't going to wake up again. The percentages were against him and logic dictated he find some way – no matter how desperate – to stay alive.

Being bonded to two mechs was dangerous and unheard of. Only seekers were known for having multiple partners. Trines were common, quarternes somewhat rarer but they had once existed. Prowl could recall nothing about the equivalent existing for grounders and so he had no idea what would happen to Optimus and Jazz if he deactivated. Probability dictated a 47% chance that they would share his fate, leaving only 53% chance that they would survive. He simply didn't have enough knowledge to risk it. His bond may have been out of necessity rather than love, but that did not mean he didn't care for both mechs attached to his spark.

Optimus had willingly agreed to bond, although it was early in their relationship, they had both wanted to take that step. Prowl had known that it wasn't just to save his life or free him from his forced bond with the seekers, Optimus genuinely had feelings for him, wanted to be with him. Jazz on the other hand was and had always been somewhat of an enigma to Prowl. He had pushed him away without looking back when Prowl had asked him to bond much earlier on in the war, only to volunteer his spark and possibly sacrifice any other chance he had at happiness with another in order to save both himself and Optimus.

They hadn't been bonded long when that fateful attack had happened and so Prowl had no idea what Jazz wanted from the bond. He was wary of him, unsure. They had fought right before Prowl's spark had begun failing, said things, there was so much pent up anger, built up over the vorns, neither mech truly knew where he stood.

Sitting in the searing, blistering heat of the desert, his paintwork starting to peel due to exposure, Prowl realised just how much he missed both mechs. He had to find a way to get back, figure out everything else from there. His scanners were failing, his energon reserves falling below the recommended operating minimum. His systems whined with the strain as Prowl made one last desperate reach for survival. He activated his comm. and sent a short burst of data before it too failed.

Sinking on his suspension, Prowl's spark fluttered as his final systems powered down. An alert flashed up across his HUD and the tactician cancelled it. He didn't need to be told the exact time of his death. The bond tugged just briefly, more of a subtle brush against his spark. There was nothing else left to do, with one final opening of the bond, Prowl pushed as much of his affection and respect and his regret through the weak link before cutting it off once more. He would minimise their loss, their pain as much as possible, he would give them a fighting chance to live.

The solitary police car, cooking in the midday sun, creaked and whined softly one more time before it fell silent. Prowl slipped unknowingly into stasis lock, already unconscious due to the lack of energy, oblivious to the glinting speck and rapidly approaching cloud of sand and dust shimmering on the horizon.

Ark.

First Aid milled about the med bay. Ratchet had entrusted him to take care of the place when he wasn't around and First Aid took great pride in ensuring everything was kept pristine and in its rightful place for Ratchet to come back to. Turning on the spot slowly, his optics took in the sight of the med bay, he'd cleaned and tidied everything but something still felt out of place. Frowning, the young medic went over everything again. He cleaned every surface, double checked their inventory, straightened all the tools, sterilised recently used ones, despite having done them twice already.

Sighing the mech tapped absently on the soft padding of one of the medical berths, surely Ratchet was due back soon? It had been unnaturally quiet, no injuries, no attacks, no random training incidents, everything was fine and yet still unease sat firmly at the bottom of First Aid's spark.

He swung round when the doors suddenly swished open and First Aid felt his spark flutter at the sight of the noble mech strolling towards him. Mirage was always so confident, so sure of himself. When he was in the room, First Aid couldn't usually tear his optics away from him. His spark skipped a beat as Mirage stopped and glanced around the med bay. It was obvious to First Aid that Mirage had been created by a higher class than the rest of the Autobots. His frame was strong, specially built for purpose. His paintwork was distinctive and had a sheen to it that spoke volumes about the sort of attention and care that Mirage bestowed upon himself. Yet despite his background, his past; Mirage had never spoken down to First Aid, not intentionally. He'd never treated him as someone less worthy of his time than the other mechs he was close to. Truth be told, Mirage held himself apart from the rest, was reserved, polite and dutiful at all times and was everything that First Aid looked up to and admired.

"Ratchet?"

"H—he's not here." First Aid shook himself out of his daze and cast the mech a smile. "Can I help?"

Mirage turned back and returned his smile with a subtle one of his own. "Yes, that would be more than adequate."

First Aid felt his face plates heat up at the compliment and patted the berth for Mirage to sit on as he gathered any necessary tools he might need. Mirage perched and watched the medic closely, smirking to himself when First Aid ducked his helm to avoid looking at him directly in the optic.

"So what appears to be the problem?"

"I injured my arm during training, possibly wrenched some cabling?"

First Aid clicked with rebuke and shook his helm, his confidence returning as he fell into his medic persona. "The way you special ops mechs train it's a wonder any of you are ever fit enough to go on missions."

Mirage held out his arm with a low hum of curiosity. "Us special ops mechs hm?"

"Yes, you're the only ones who train so hard you end up injuring yourselves, you should be more careful." The Protectobot scolded.

Nodding Mirage, bowed his helm with chagrin, optics focusing solely on the medic's face as he diligently scanned his injured arm. "You're quite right, we should be more careful. Jazz pushes us quite hard, not surprising given who he is close to."

First Aid blinked at the comment, Mirage rarely offered information about his fellow special ops mechs. "Who you mean Ironhide?"

"Mm… Ironhide…"

First Aid shrugged and fiddled about with Mirage's arm, gently removing a section of his plating. "He's quite rough I suppose but I doubt he and Jazz have the same style in training, I would imagine Jazz has a much more subtle approach than wielding canons and threatening to blow your aft to Cybertron." He grinned up at Mirage who smirked and nodded.

"Of course you're right. Maybe Jazz is more influenced by others." Mirage mused quietly.

Tweaking the cabling with a thin pair of pliers, First Aid deftly repaired Mirage's arm. "Mm, I guess so… he used to be close to Prowl but not for a while."

"He did?"

First Aid replaced the panel and glanced up at the noble, now directing all his attention at him. "I uh… yeah," he winced and shifted under Mirage's scrutiny, "it was a long time ago, nobody really knows about it, I shouldn't have told you just forget I said anything, okay?" He began to draw back, not used to being questioned so much by patients. He gathered his tools once more, only for Mirage to catch his arm gently.

"You're nervous around me."

First Aid gawped at the statement. Typical Mirage, always straight to the point, direct, putting him so firmly on the spot that he jerked back and fumbled with his tools, dropping them one by one. Cursing softly the medic avoided Mirage's soft, curious optics and crouched to retrieve his tools. Without warning the mech was beside him, helping him, offering him a small laser welder, his fingers brushing just barely over First Aid's.

It was enough to make his intakes stall for a klik and First Aid stole a quick look up at the mech whose hand still held onto the laser welder in First Aid's palm. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to be so obvious…"

Shaking his helm, Mirage tightened his grip, fingers curling around First Aid's hand and the tool, helping him to his feet. "It's quite alright; I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh no, no you don't… you never do. It's just I… well…this is embarrassing." First Aid squirmed beneath Mirage's gaze and his own optics focused on the noble's hand curled around his own.

Mirage chuckled and gently tugged him closer, his free hand, picking the tools from First Aid's hold and placing them behind him on the berth. "I think I know what the problem is."

Optics widening, First Aid peered up at the taller mech, intakes increasing as he drew closer. "You do?"

"Mmhmm. You see, we special ops mechs have the ability to detect change in spark pulse and intake levels; it comes in useful for reasons irrelevant right now and right now both of yours are increasing rapidly." Mirage spoke softly, his hand clutching First Aid's slowly releasing and sliding up his arm, brushing over his shoulder, his throat before the backs of fingers caressed the curve of his cheek with the lightest of touches.

First Aid let out a small incoherent whimper as his voice caught in his vocaliser, prompting a fond smile to tug at Mirage's lip components.

"You want me." Mirage leaned close, his lips just barely brushing over First Aid's audio.

"I…I… this is inappropriate… we shouldn't…I…"

"Stop denying it to yourself, First Aid." He cupped the smaller mech's face in both hands now, thumbs tracing over the plating of his face slowly. "And stop denying it to me."

First Aid's intakes stalled once again as Mirage slowly, gently pressed his lips to his own. The medic melted into the kiss, forgetting decorum or and sense of propriety, he wanted this, he'd wanted it for so long the moment felt almost too surreal to be more than a dream or a fantasy.

Their mouths moved in tandem slowly as First Aid relaxed and returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around Mirage's neck as the larger mech, spun round and lifted him onto the berth. The noble's clever hands roamed all over his body, teasing along seams and digging into his joints to stroke sensor nodes that had First Aid shivering with delight in his grasp. The medic mewled into the kiss as Mirage parted his legs and pressed flush to his frame. It was intoxicating, the thrum of his systems, his spark. The sweet taste of him as he explored his mouth languidly, losing himself to that talented glossa dancing with his own.

He broke the kiss with a heated gasp, resting his helm against Mirage's as the noble smiled warmly at him. "Oh, Mirage… I can't tell you how long I've waited for you to notice, for you to say something…I never even hoped you'd be interested in someone like me."

"You needn't have worried. I know I'm not the most approachable but I am rather fond of you First Aid and I am not a mech to enter into a relationship lightly."

First Aid grinned and hummed in agreement, stealing a chaste kiss from the noble. "Me too, we can take things slow... right? Not like we're planning to bond is it?" He chuckled.

Mirage tilted his helm a curious expression on his face. "Would that be a bad thing?"

"No I didn't mean it like that, it's just after the last one… I think Ratchet would blow a circuit if he knew of more."

Mirage peppered First Aid's jaw with light, teasing kisses, dropping to suckle at his throat. "Must have been a bad match…" He mused softly, his voice low, alluring.

Moaning at the tender affection, the smaller 'bot arched up to press closer to Mirage, his own fingers exploring the noble's frame. "They were a good match… just a bit sudden and for all the wrong reasons…" Mumbling quietly, First Aid kissed Mirage's audio, trembling as tingling pleasure rippled through his circuits.

"Oh? I can't imagine a bond being done for the wrong reasons… it's said that both sparks have to be willing…" He ran his fingers down First Aid's central seam on his chest as if for emphasis, his optics dark and smouldering.

First Aid rocked into the caress, mouth parting with another gasp, his spark spinning faster in his chest. A distant alert pinged somewhere deep in his processor, told him to say no more out of duty to his Hippocratic Oath. "I can't really say..."

"Oh that's alright… I'm only curious." Mirage purred, his voice silken, low, inviting as he mouthed over the warm plating of First Aid's exposed throat. "I some day hope to bond… need to be aware of all the risks," stroking First Aid's cheek, he smiled, lips brushing over the medic's, "wouldn't want my chosen to be against the idea. It's said to be painful."

First Aid hummed in agreement, understanding the need to know more. Bonding was after all, not a subject often spoken about. "…it wasn't that they weren't willing…they were… his life was threatened… Optimus agreed to save… oooh… that feels good."

"Mm, it does, doesn't it?" Mirage whispered, his other hand ghosting over First Aid's heated panel, teasing the small mech, diving forward for a searing kiss, swallowing the subsequent mewl of excitement. "Prime is bonded hm?" The noble prompted quietly, brushing fingertips over the smooth, hot metal of First Aid's panel as he quivered with pleasure.

First Aid drew back, helm tilting to one side. "I've never known you to ask so many questions, be so curious…"

Mirage chuckled softly. "I want you to be comfortable with me, be able to share anything, as I wish to with you." He kissed him deeply, breaking it with a suckle of his lower lip, following it with an enticing whisper. "I would expect nothing less from a lover."

"I'm the same." First Aid gazed lovingly up at Mirage, his earlier rising concerns obliterated in the wake of Mirage's disarming smile.

"Then tell me more, bonding is a terrifying concept for a special ops mech. Be my medic, First Aid… put me at ease." Mirage purred.

"Mm…Prime is the first Autobot to enter into a trine, three ground based 'bots." First Aid murmured, losing himself to ministrations of the insistent, alluring noble as he was eased back onto the berth. His hips rocked up unconsciously, his panel sliding open. It had been so long since anyone, but for Mirage he would give up everything.

Mirage let out a predatory growl as he climbed onto the berth, pinning First Aid beneath him. "I see… so unusual… so unheard of, I thought only seekers...?"

"Mm, only seekers have trines… they're the first." First Aid bucked up against Mirage, wanting more of his touch. "Oh Mirage, want you…please"

"This I know…" Mirage whispered, voice husky, inviting. "I wouldn't want to share you with anyone else; Prime is one of a kind to share his bonded…"

"Ohh…! No choice… Jazz didn't want Prowl to die…" He inhaled sharply, arching into the noble, trembling hands clinging to his larger frame as his optics dimmed with pleasure, his now exposed components at the full mercy of Mirage's ministrations.

The noble retracted his panel and he hovered over the smaller, writhing mech for just klik, an uncharacteristic leer spreading across his face. "You have given me so much. Autobots: easy to penetrate, to break."

First Aid tensed at the strange words and jerked as sudden pain stabbed his processor. The uneasy feeling engulfed his spark with waves of dread. The pleasure he'd felt, dissipated rapidly as Mirage entered him quickly, roughly, pressing him into the berth. A cry escaped him as he tried to slow the mech's movements, this wasn't right. "Mirage… please stop.. you're hurting…"

The noble didn't listen and First Aid let out a scream as pain filled his body, he no longer registered the thrusts into him and soon even the med bay faded away into a blurry backdrop. His optics snapped open and he struggled against the berth. His arms and legs were strapped down and his processor felt like it was being crushed. He was no longer in the med bay and Mirage was no longer there.

"Mirage! Help me… please…!" His voice broke into static as he strained against his bonds before falling unconscious.

The cabling buried deep into his helm retracted and Soundwave drew back slowly. The hack had drained him a little but as he'd expected the small medic had been surprisingly easy to break.

/Soundwave to Megatron./

/Go ahead Soundwave./

/Intruder: Autobot Mirage./

/Very good, Soundwave. I knew I could rely on you to get results./

/Additional information obtained: Missing Autobot Prowl; bonded./

/Interesting. Do we know to whom?/

/Autobot: Optimus Prime, Autobot: Jazz./

/Well now, that is very interesting. Prowl must be working with Mirage. This could be a problem. Send out a search party, hunt them down. Bring them back to the Ark. If they resist, bring them back in pieces./

/Understood./

/Oh and Soundwave…

/Megatron: Additional requirements?/

/Be sure to inform Shockwave of this new information. I'm sure it will prove useful for his experimentation on Jazz./

/Affirmative./


	7. Segregation

A/N: Sorry for delay folks. RL and stuffs! ^_^

Shades of Grey 7

The small mech barely made much more sound than a soft whimper as he landed on the floor with a thud and the scraping of metal against rock. First Aid immediately curled into a ball and shrank away from his captors. He just wanted the nightmare to end, the image of Mirage attacking him playing over and over in his cortex.

The false memory had been deliberately planted by Soundwave following his hack. The mech had created a feedback loop in the medic's processor rendering the mech virtually non-functional.

He didn't register when he was moved, when strong arms took gentle hold of him and a gruff, short yet compassionate voice drifted through his audio. First Aid reacted to none of it. His reality twisted into a living nightmare, unable to shake the memory, the pain, the humiliation. Why wouldn't they just offline him, he'd given them what they wanted hadn't he? What use was he now?

"How is he?"

Ratchet didn't look up at the question, his optics trained worriedly on his protégée, a hand slowly stroking First Aid's helm. "He's been like this since they dumped him here." He sighed, glancing up at the solemn face of Prime. "He keeps mumbling something about Mirage, Prime… without my tools I don't know but my scans tell me that his neural-electrical activity is erratic. If it isn't regulated he could…"

Optimus rested a hand on Ratchet's shoulder and gave his old friend a small squeeze. "We'll find a way, Ratchet, I promise you that."

The medic looked away, optics gazing sadly down at the small mech in his lap. "Let's hope it's not too late…"

Following his gaze, Optimus was filled with a deep concern. He had no idea how he was going to keep his promise; he had no plan of escape. The Autobots were depending on him, relying on him to save them and over half of them no longer knew whether he was alive or dead. He and Ratchet had been segregated from the rest of the Ark crew. The Decepticons had fashioned a cell underground, they were beneath the mountain, buried under thousands of tonnes of rock. A force field had been rigged up and to touch it would spell instant death for any 'bot. Optimus was stuck for options and opportunities and was beginning to doubt his own capabilities as a leader and a lover.

He had no idea where they were or what had happened to his bonded. He'd felt Jazz just barely, had even been able to contact him but when Shockwave had appeared the bond had become stretched, meaning only one thing; Jazz was too far away. Tentatively he brushed over Prowl's side of the bond, with the eternal hope he would respond somehow if he was able. It remained silent as it always did. The only flicker of proof that Prowl was even still alive was that Megatron consistently taunted Prime about him, which meant that Prowl was still out there somewhere eluding capture.

Megatron talked about his tactician like he was so much used trash, a toy for his seekers. It was enough to make the energon in Prime's body boil over, he loathed Megatron for what he'd done and the depravity he'd sank to.

His helm jerked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. What was it the humans said? Talk of the devil? Prime readied himself for another of Megatron's taunts. He was actually quite surprised he hadn't been subjected to torture yet. If anything it greatly concerned him. Surely the Decepticon leader would want to try and snatch the Matrix from his very chest or torture him for the whereabouts of the Autobot resistance on Cybertron, something other than taunting him for his own morbid enjoyment.

"Credit for you thoughts, Prime." Megatron drawled, a strange new look on his face.

Prime's azure optics narrowed at the silver mech. "My thoughts are none of your concern, Megatron."

"You may think that to be the case, Prime but you are mistaken." He leaned closer, the golden shimmer of the force shield reflecting off his armour. "All of your thoughts are my concern, the fact that you ithink/i concerns me."

Prime glowered at his dark words and unspoken threat. Megatron drew back, a knowing leer spreading across his face. "No matter." His voice was bright and cheerful as he held Optimus's gaze, ruby optics glittering with amusement. "I have found the back door into your very spark, Prime and I intend to make the most of it."

Growling, Optimus clenched his fists. "What drivel are you spouting, Megatron? Does power mongering require you to speak in riddles?"

Megatron threw back his head and laughed a loud, raucous laugh. The sort that grated on the audio like a sharp static burst. "I. Have. Your. Bonded."

Optimus's spark lurched in his chest at the emphatic words and his entire frame felt awash with sudden numbing cold. Fear and dread clutched at his chest painfully. Maintaining a dispassionate front, Prime held Megatron's smug stare, remaining silent, neither confirming or denying the Decepticon's statement.

"Mm I see that rendered you silent. No words of spite, no insults or threats to throw my way?" He chuckled darkly. "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

_'Systems functioning. Minimal power restored. Stasis lock: reset. Energon levels: Increasing: Current level at: 14%'_

Prowl felt rather than heard the soft whirr of his cooling fans as they kicked in. His frame felt hot, dry, baked and ninety percent of his systems were running at a sluggish pace. How had he allowed himself to get so bad? He was better, more capable than this. His HUD flashed up warnings of energon leaks, which were quickly deactivated by another source.

In a flood of panic, Prowl jerked into full consciousness. Registering a startled grunt of surprise, he froze and stared in disbelief at the blue mech sitting beside him. Mirage managed a weak smile and gave Prowl a reassuring nod. Prowl wasn't given chance to respond. Suddenly engulfed by the astonishingly strong embrace from a yellow mini-bot, Prowl 'oofed' and patted the mech's back awkwardly.

"Careful 'Bee, watch the energon lines." Mirage gently scolded.

Grinning sheepishly at a stunned Prowl, Bumblebee pulled away. "Sorry about that, it's just been us for a while now, feels good to have something good happen."

"Good? My memory files are still rebooting, could someone fill me in please?"

Mirage sighed softly and disconnected his energon line from Prowl's arm. "You went into stasis lock, we got here in time to give you some of our energon reserves to prevent it from becoming permanent. You were injured badly when the Decepticons attacked the Ark. You managed to escape capture and have – I assume – remained here in an attempt to self repair."

Prowl listened, his face unreadable, his demeanour somber and quiet. "I see and the others?"

Bumblebee and Mirage shot each other a saddened, worried glance. "They're prisoners of Megatron… the ones who survived the attack at any rate."

Exhaling softly, Prowl pinched his nasal bridge. "How many casualties?"

"Too many." Came Mirage's solemn reply. "Not to mention the experiments that Shockwave has been performing on the prisoners."

Prowl's helm snapped up, optics cold, hard. "Shockwave?"

Mirage nodded. "He's based on Cybertron. Megatron has been sending groups through the space bridge. Apparently when they return, they're not the same… they're more like drones."

A low growl left Prowl's vocaliser. "Shockwave will only be using the collaboration with Megatron as a guise. He'll be up to something and I very much doubt it has anything to do with Megatron's cause."

Frowning Mirage helped Prowl to his feet, supporting him while he took a moment to steady himself. "How do you know all this, Prowl?"

"Shockwave has a long history of experimentation and radical thinking. Usually at the expense of others. He doesn't care about the cause, I wouldn't be surprised if he was planning to usurp Megatron's leadership."

Bumblebee whistled softly. "Well that would be good for us right? You know enemy of my enemy?"

"No, trust me when I tell you I speak from experience. Shockwave is an enemy to all Cybertronians. We must find out what he's up to."

Shaking his helm, Mirage gave a small shrug. "We can't."

"I will find a way in, we can…"

"That's the thing, Prowl… we already found a way in, that's how we found out about Shockwave."

"And?"

"Well…" Mirage bowed his helm, shame filling his spark. "I was detected… by Soundwave. They took Jazz away, believing he was helping me, but he wasn't…it was my fault, I shouldn't have left him."

Prowl's spark lurched sharply in his chest. Not daring to test the bond just yet – he didn't know how he would deal with it if Jazz had… it didn't bear thinking about – he laid a hand on Mirage's slumped shoulder. "If Jazz forced you to leave him behind, then I'm confident he had a reason, he would have known what he was doing."

"That's the thing, Prowl. He didn't know what would happen. He sent me…. He wanted me to find you… you were more important…"

Prowl stilled at the words. Jazz wouldn't have sacrificed himself for his sake would he? He couldn't know what that would do to the bond, he wouldn't have taken such a huge risk… but then this _was_ Jazz. He met Mirage's hesitant optics and gave him a half smile in reassurance. "Jazz knows what he's doing, Mirage. Try not to be too concerned, we have enough to think about right now."

"Alright, Prowl." The noble nodded and sighed. He'd seen that look – briefest of flashes – of horror on Prowl's face, in his optics when he'd mentioned what Jazz had done. He trusted Prowl, had confidence in his abilities as a tactician but when it came to matters of emotion, Prowl was never forthcoming, so for Mirage to have seen that tiny glimpse into the SIC's emotions was enough to tell him that it was something to be very concerned about.

Cybertron

"How far away are the drones?" Elita One headed straight for the archaic looking sensor array. It bleeped wildly at them, signifying a large mass of Shockwave's mindless warriors heading straight for the old palace.

Ultra Magnus pursed his lips as he directed Hot Rod and Springer to gather all their weaponry and supplies into the small room adjacent to the grand hall. "Are you sure this will work, 'Lita?"

"There's only way to find out. Looking at these sensor readings, the sensors are located on the parapet of the palace. These are high class sensors Ultra, used only for military issue hardware."

Optics brightening a fraction, Ultra's face broke into a faint grin. "He really did think of everything didn't he?"

"Alright, alright… I get it, Prowl's a hero. Fine! No need to rub it in my face." Springer growled on his way past, arms clutching onto some heavy weaponry.

Ultra Magnus shot him an incredulous and somewhat baffled look and then quirked one optic ridge at Elita who simply ducked and grinned. A little bit of humour, no matter how small went a long way during wartime. It was a sign that they at least weren't beaten yet.

Patting Blurr's shoulder, Elita cast him a reassuring smile and headed into the smaller room. Each of them turned to face her, worried yet determined optics all focused on her. She inhaled deeply and regarded each one in turn. "I need four or five volunteers to stay behind."

"Why stay behind, there's nothing left here to save… unless you're sentimental." Springer grumbled, arms folding across his chest.

"Don't be so thick-headed, lad." Kup berated with a shake of his helm. "Femme knows what she's doin'. Diversion I surmise, not a mission one is expected to survive I take it?"

Sighing, Elita gave a short nod. "I won't lie to you, the chances of those staying behind, surviving the sentinel attacks are slim to none. That doesn't mean I don't want you to try."

"And what of the rest of us?" Hot Rod quietly questioned, his expression serious, thoughtful, unbecoming of the feisty young 'bot.

"They're to come with me, we're going to attack Shockwave where it hurts the most. His one singular contact with Earth."

"The space bridge." Firestar murmured.

Elita nodded. "Exactly. In all honesty, I don't expect many of us to survive. The plan is, rig the space bridge power control centre, send four 'bots to Earth to help Prime and one stays behind to make sure the job gets done."

Blurr shuffled uneasily on the spot. "Um Elita I heard that the space bridge is deep within Darkmount and it's now the most heavily guarded complex on Cybertron a 'bot would be a fool to go there he uses Autobots in his experiments and there's talk that he found Vector Sigma but nobody really knows for sure."

Blinking blankly at the fast talking 'bot, Elita hesitated for a moment. "We know the risks, but this is our only opportunity. Darkmount isn't far from Praxus, it's quite likely why it was the first city to fall at the start of the war and while he thinks we're here, we have a chance to strike at him, stop his experiments for good." She looked at them with earnest. "I know it's a lot to ask…"

"It's not too much to ask, if there's a way we can help Prime and the others, we should try." Chromia clapped a hand on the femme's shoulder and threw her a rueful grin. "Besides I know 'Hide would rather I went out fightin' then waiting here to die. I'm with you."

"Me too." The quiet jet stepped forward, red optics glancing around the room. "Shockwave doesn't just stick to Autobots with his experiments... I have a few... words I want to share with him." Acidstorm growled softly, his fists clenched.

Ultra Magnus stepped forward in an effort to take some of the burden from Elita's shoulders. "Who else?"

Kup cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I volunteer to stay behind. Ultra, lad… you should go, they'll need strong back up."

"Kup I… you know what this means?"

Kup smiled warmly. "That I do, kid. I've been around a long time, I'm too old to go storming 'con forts now, I'll do my bit here, go out doin' somethin' worthwhile. Don't be gettin' soft on me now."

Ultra managed a weak laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it, Kup."

"I'll stay with him." Firestar stepped up, gun at the ready. "And if we can come and save your afts when we've finished here, we'll do that to." She grinned at the mech who gave her a fond look of gratitude.

"Of that, I have no doubt. Anyone else?"

"You might need a flier. I'm with you."

"Ahem, I do believe that position is already filled." Sky Lynx countered tartly, earning himself a dark glare from the triple changer. "Just saying..." He added quietly before turning to Ultra Magnus. "I'll be more use to you out there than in here, I'm with you, Sir."

Elita nodded and glanced at the others. "Alright, that makes sense. I hate to rush your decision but it's up to you three now."

Blurr, Moonracer and Hot Rod looked at each other. The femme stepped forward. "I'll stay, can't let Firestar have all the fun can I?" She smiled sadly at the other two femmes. "I love you both, stay alive, okay." Turning away the headed for the other side of the room, hiding her sorrow from the rest.

The red and orange mech patted Blurr's back and smirked. "I'll stay here too, Blurr's fast, he'll be of more use to you. Now you better get going before it's too late." He smiled faintly at the small group preparing to leave. "No goodbyes, like Firestar said… we'll find you."

Elita pressed her mouth into a thin line and nodded. "We'll hold the door open as long as we can."

Hot Rod grinned. "Appreciate it. Now go. We've got your backs."

Inhaling deeply, Ultra Magnus made the first move. Giving them all a smile he ushered the group of five out the door, carrying as many weapons as possible that wasn't going to impede their journey or infiltration.

They raced through the palace and back out the secret door. He turned to give the small group standing on the other side. With a nod and a small wave he stepped back, letting the door swing shut with a faint whoosh of air, before he followed the rest out into the open.


	8. Sacrifice

A/N It's been a rough few months, but I can't tell you how much it means to me you folk who are still reading and commenting. You all make my day. Thank you

Visor flickering erratically, Jazz groaned and pushed himself to sitting. His memory cache was fragmented. He had no recollection of what happened after he was placed in Shockwave's tender care and that concerned him deeply. One thing was certain though, he was no longer on Earth. The dark grey metallic enclosure told him that much.

He grimaced as he crawled to the nearest wall, coming to rest against it with a weary groan. The injuries he'd suffered at the hands of Megatron were beginning to take their toll. He couldn't quite recall the last time he'd been tended to by a proper medic. His thoughts kept drifting to First Aid and that last panicked glance back as he was led away by Soundwave. There was no point in dwelling on what he should have done now, or what could have happened, all Jazz could think about was getting his aft out of wherever Shockwave had brought him.

Pulling himself up, his legs sluggish and slow to respond, he peered out of a small aperture. It cast a faint light onto the cell; it had to be a way out. His visor brightened as he was greeted by a strangely familiar sight. Yet it looked so different, it couldn't be. He strained to see more, not believing his own optics, before his foot slipped and he crashed to the ground in a heap. Too weak to stand again, he leant against the wall in defeat. It was no wonder the bond was drawn so taut and his spark ached. He was on Cybertron. Any hope he had of escaping dwindled as he sat there, his audios picking up the faint sounds of tormented 'bots and anguished cries for mercy.

Off lining his visor he sat, silent, alone. Not even bothering to register for how long he simply sat and waited. A soft scraping noise and Jazz jolted out of light recharge. There was someone approaching. It was a mech, his frame tarnished and almost grey, he was alive but something was definitely off about him. The drone – like mech was holding another, gripping him tightly. Coming to a stop at Jazz's cell, the door was opened. Jazz cursed silently, if he had been capable of moving, he would have rushed the 'bot and made a run for it. He tensed when a familiar frame was thrown bodily into the cell. Barely able to contain his surprise, Jazz reached for the new prisoner. Crawling his way over to the trembling frame, he gathered the 'bot into his arms, holding him close while cooing to him softly.

The Praxian clutched Jazz tightly, pale blue optics staring up at him in disbelief. "It's you, it's really you… I thought…I…"

Jazz managed a soft smile and gave Bluestreak a squeeze. "None other, mech."

"I fought them… after they took you… I couldn't let Shockwave take you, Prowl would never forgive me if I hadn't tried."

"Aw, Blue… Prowl would 'a never blamed ya. Ya shouldn't have tried t' come here."

Arms wrapped around Jazz tightly, a low keen escaping the young 'bot's vocaliser as he buried his face against his plating. "I had no choice… Shockwave wanted a Praxian… his experiments… Jazz they have something to do with Prowl but I can't figure it out… that's why he ordered me to be brought here too." His voice trailed off into a terrified murmur. "I've seen the things he does….I can't… don't let me end up like that, Jazz. Promise me you'll shoot me if you have to."

"Blue…I…"

The 'bot caught his gaze with earnest bright optics. "Promise me, Jazz… I don't want to end up like… like ithem/i I know you'll not let me go like that… you'll stop it, right?"

Jazz stared, his spark twisting in his chest. They all cared for Bluestreak like creators, not just Prowl or himself, they all did. He was the only survivor from the horror that was Praxus, he had grown so much, it tore Jazz apart to see him like this. He nodded meekly, his voice catching as he whispered his promise. "I promise, Blue… I'll stop them… I'll not let you go…not like that." He held the mech close, staring with grim realisation at their eerie guard; his visor was met with the gaze of cold, dead optics. There was no life in the 'bot that stood at the entrance to their cell. Noticing the 'con symbol on the mech's arm, Jazz inhaled slowly, unconsciously holding Bluestreak tighter, repeating his vow with more venom. "I'll not let go."

Cybertron

Sky Lynx immediately transformed once leaving the ruined palace, the small group filed on board. Acid Storm took point and took to the skies first, he was small and fast and would help Sky Lynx find a route through the attacking drones. They looked out from the jet's small narrow windows as a barrage of plasma fire unleashed from the palace last standing turrets.

Ultra Magnus shot Elita a faint grin as their back up laid waste to the first drone to reach the palace. Sky Lynx soared and weaved through the sky, avoiding laser fire, receiving a few scorching licks against his hull as he tried to follow the sleek green 'con.

Springer huffed from the other side of Sky Lynx's interior prompting the others to look at him questioningly. "I still don't trust him." He glowered out of the window, sharp optics following the trail of the smaller jet. "He's still a 'con."

Ultra Magnus sighed and shook his helm. "Springer I think the war here has less to do with faction symbols and a whole lot more to do with survival, don't you?"

"He could be leading us into a trap. Be leading us straight to Shockwave!" The 'copter blurted out, intakes hitching.

"He was near to off lining when we found him, Springer." Chromia interjected. "He was escaping from Shockwave, why would he betray us now?"

"Aw come on! You can't all be that naïve!" Springer paced, his irritation growing. "He's suddenly found when we're making headway in defending ourselves, when Shockwave can't track us and now suddenly he's able to find us wherever we hide?"

Ultra frowned, meeting Elita's worried gaze. "He does have a point." The mech murmured. "Shockwave has gotten more adept at tracking us recently."

Pursing her lip components, Elita shook her helm. "No, we're not turning on each other now. He's stuck with us and fought with us, Ultra he saved your life… we stick together, I don't care what faction he used to be."

"You can't be serious; he's a fraggin' 'con!"

"Those are my orders, mech! Do I make myself clear?"

Springer stopped in his tracks, mouth open in protest at the femme's fierce tone. Looking to Ultra Magnus, to Blurr, to anyone for support he found none and his mouth clamped shut. Glaring at Elita with sullen optics he folded his arms his reply curt and laced with reluctance. "Crystal."

The atmosphere was stifling while nobody spoke; all were watching Elita and Springer stand off from one another. Tensions were heightened, tempers finally fraying as they headed to what was most likely a kamikaze mission. Sky Lynx jolted sharply, shaking them from their silence, his rich voice filling the cabin. "We're going down, hang on!"

The white jet bucked and dived to avoid the electrified grid defence surrounding Darkmount. Engines whining painfully, he managed to level out before his nose crumpled into the ground. Flying beneath the deadly defence net, Sky Lynx let out a low growl as he had the added difficulty of trying to manoeuvre his larger frame through the sentinels trying to stamp on him. No matter what happened, one thought was clear in the mech's processor. This was a one way trip.

Earth

"Do we know how he's taking prisoners to Cybertron?" The black and white had not wasted time in getting back down to business. Setting up a makeshift base at the abandoned warehouse where Mirage and Bumblebee had been holding up, he immediately started to draw up plans for hitting the Decepticons where it hurt the most. They had to be subtle, not cause too much injury, they had to wait for when a large convoy of 'bots were being shipped, rescue as many as possible and reclaim the space bridge. Otherwise they were risking the Decepticons hurting or even killing the rest of the prisoners out of malice for their boldness.

"Spacebridge." Bumblebee chimed in, trying to follow Prowl's crudely drawn out plans and tactical scenarios. "It's only manned by a small contingent though, considering it's probably their strongest asset."

Nodding, optics still fixed intently on his plans, Prowl hummed in agreement. "We can use this information. It means they do not consider us a threat and they must, by now know there is at the very least two of us still not captured."

"That will still leave us with a problem, Prowl." Mirage stepped up from the wall he was leaning against. "There are still only three of us, against who knows how many Decepticons."

"Be that as it may." Prowl replied softly. "We must take control of the space bridge."

Cybertron

There wasn't much time for them to land and find cover. Sky Lynx, being the largest had transformed and headed straight for the space bridge. There were surprisingly few actual Decepticons lurking about the fortified base, he had assured them he would hold the bridge until they got there.

Splitting into two teams, Elita ordered Ultra Magnus and his small team to head for the main generators of the base. They had enough explosive with them, to blow Darkmount off the face of Cybertron. Elita was heading for the space bridge controls, it was her team's job to set the coordinates for Earth and rig the bridge to blow to prevent anyone following them.

The femme led them through narrow, dark corridors, climbing through the levels of the base. She'd only ever been in Darkmount once, before the war. Optimus had not long since been ordained as Prime and the new space bridges were only being tested at that point. Shockwave had been there, hovering in the shadowy corners, Elita could only remember that single red orb focusing on their small group, distinctly flickering whenever Prowl had explained the process. He'd sent shivers through her spark then, now he downright terrified her.

Undeterred from the mission, she pressed on, firing on the occasional guard without any mercy. There was too much at stake to be lenient. Acid storm was leading the way, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure they were still following. Chromia came up beside the other femme a frown clear on her faceplates. "'Lita there's something really wrong with these guards."

"I know I've seen it too."

"And some are 'cons and others are 'bots… they don't even fight."

Elita shook her helm. "We can't take that chance, whoever, whatever they were… we're probably doing them a favour. Aim for the spark."

No more words were spoken as the green jet ushered them inside a darkened, empty room. Pulling out a laser welder, he went to work on a ventilation entrance and tore the panel away after weakening it. Waving them inside, he pointed up the shaft. "We go up. Shockwave won't expect this."

"I think we know a different Shockwave." Elita muttered her tone grim, worried.

"Are we going to run into the mech himself?" Chromia asked quietly.

Acid storm gave a small shrug. "It is possible; he maintains the space bridge quite religiously."

A dark grin spread across the femme's face. "Good, I've been wanting to give him a piece of my mind."

Ultra Magnus led his team quietly through the underbelly of the base. They were to blow the main energon generators which siphoned energy direct from the planet's core. Once destroyed, Shockwave would be without energy, without power and with any luck; caught in the blast, while they made their escape through the space bridge.

The lower levels of Darkmount, lived up to their name. There was no natural light down in the depths of the base, only their headlights lit up their way. The quiet was unnerving, tense, stifling and Ultra Magnus only felt weighed down by the explosives stored in his subspace, the sooner this mission was done the better.

"How far into this slag heap do we have to go, Ultra?" Springer griped, clutching his weapon close.

The larger mech, glanced over at the green triple changer. "As far as we have to." His reply was short, sombre, they had a little more way to go yet and Ultra knew all too well how Springer was feeling. This place was creepy, beyond creepy; it was surreal and sent a chill straight to the spark.

They passed countless cells as they traversed the maze like tunnel network, every single one had traces of 'bots that had been held there, but no longer. They were all empty. The small group dreaded to think what had become of such unfortunate sparks. A soft noise caught them off guard and they froze where they were.

"What... the frag... was that?" Springer hissed through clenched denta.

Raising a hand to quiet his disgruntled team, Ultra took a few steps towards the dark corner and peered cautiously around it's edge. "There's someone still in a cell..." He murmured. "I'll check it out, wait here."

"Ultra... Ultra!" Springer began to protest but the mech had already disappeared into the black corridor, his headlights fading in the perpetual darkness. "Fragger."

Not knowing what he was going to find, Ultra maintained a heightened awareness, his headlights dimmed as to not give him away and he crept closer to the pitch black cell. That soft noise reached his audio once more and he halted, gripping his weapon. It was whimpering, coming from the cell directly ahead. Peering into the darkness, Ultra's sharp optics picked up the faint outline of a 'bot curled up in the corner of the cell. Pulling back he fired his weapon on the lowest setting and forced the door open. Taking a step inside, the noise stopped and Ultra brightened his headlights.

His optics widened at what he saw and he didn't get chance to holler before the sickeningly grey mech rushed him.

"AAAAAaaahh!"

The scream sliced through the silence and Springer was running. Blur got ahead with ease, his weapon raised and aiming at the struggling shapes in front of them. "ULTRA?" Springer yelled urgently, his weapon also raised and poised to fire.

The larger of the shapes dropped to the floor suddenly, exposing a strange grey mech who snarled viciously at the oncoming mechs.

"SHOOT IT!" Ultra shouted from the floor.

The two 'bots wasted no time in squeezing their triggers. Pulse rifles burnt two holes into the assailant's chest, it let out a sharp grunt, falling to its knees, collapsing on its front and lying still. Springer motioned towards it, still on edge, his foot catching it underneath and turning the 'bot over. "Frag... he was an autobot."

Ultra rested a hand on his shoulder. "Whoever he was, he hadn't been an Autobot in a long time."

A small shuffle and all three mechs were ready to attack once more. Raising his hands, Bluestreak crept out of the shadows. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you." He whispered shakily.

"Nevermind glad, how the frag did you get here?" Springer demanded, weapon still aiming at Bluestreak in suspicion.

"Space bridge, I'm a prisoner, just like Jazz."

"Jazz is here?" Ultra made his way over, lowering Bluestreak's arms. "Where is he, Blue?"

The young Praxian bowed his helm, his frame shaking slightly. "Shockwave took him..."

"How much further do we have to climb 'con?" Chromia griped, forcing her aching limbs to keep reaching for the next rung of the metal ladder.

"Not too far. We're almost at the control centre in the upper levels."

They continued the rest of the climb in silence, Elita's comm bleeping startled them. Acid storm growled from above them. "Turn it off! Shockwave has trackers everywhere!"

The femme acted hastily, killing the comm without answering and turning it off. "I take it we're close then?"

"Better." The green jet smirked. "We're here. Follow me. Be silent if you want to live."

Glancing down at Elita, Chromia pulled a face. "Quite the charmer ain't he?"

The jet led them through a small square exit, there were noises below them as they crawled through the shaft over the floor below. There were the odd 'bot mindlessly toiling over some sort of equipment that was thrumming away. The power emanating from whatever it was rippled through their frames, they could feel the energy deep in their protoforms, spark energy and lots of it.

"What is that freak doing up here?" Chromia growled, watching the zombie like mechs and femmes.

Acid storm sighed softly. "Experiments... on the spark, on the processor, on anything he thinks will help him gain the upper hand."

The femmes glanced at the former 'con curious at his bitter tone. "Upper hand over whom?"

The jet let out a short bitter laugh. "Megatron of course. You Autobots are so gullible you still don't know who your real enemy is. Megatron is just a puppet... Shockwave wants ultimate power over every Cybertronian. No matter what state he puts them in."

Elita frowned. "Is this why you defected?"

"I lost everyone I cared about to his experiments. We were loyal to him and he betrayed us. He will pay."

The venom in his voice told the femmes not to continue the discussion further. Everyone had their reasons for fighting in this neverending war and they all had their reasons for which side they fought for too.

"Let's go. He'll know we're here."

"What?" Chromia grabbed the jet roughly. "Are you leading us into a trap, does he scare you that much?"

Acid storm's red optics bored into her helm. "Trust me, femme. This was the only way to get you here." Shoving her off him, he kicked off a vent and leapt down onto the floor below. The femmes stared down at him in disbelief. "Get your afts down here, or everything will have been for nothing!"

Not having much choice, they followed him and sprinted through the greying mechs, still impossibly walking around, completing meaningless tasks. Acid storm went ahead, shooting any that got in his way and it wasn't long before alarms sounded throughout the base. "Come oon!" He hollered, quickly directing them into a control room, locking it behind them. "There." He pointed. "Space bridge, all of it controlled here. Do what you have to, you don't have long. He's coming!"

Something hard slammed against the door, causing Acid storm to jump back, weapon held ready. More and more hard bangs rained upon the door's metal surface. Harder and harder. Then someone fired up a rifle and shots began firing.

"Hurry!"

"We've planted them, timer is set for 100 decakliks. We've got to go now!" Elita turned as the pulse rifles burnt a hole in the door and a snarling deranged mech shoved his arm and helm through, tearing away plating from his face as he did so."

"Holy Primus!" Chromia fired without further hesitation. "What the frag is wrong with them?"

"They're not really alive anymore. They're his." Acid storm spun round and fired both his rockets at the reinforced glass window overlooking Shockwave's main experiments. "Let's get out of here!" Grabbing the femmes he leapt out of the window and flew down to the floor, their combined weight making him unable to fly for more than a few kliks.

Landing heavily, they scrambled to their feet and made a run for it. Behind them barriers began to close each section. They ran as fast as they could. Chromia suddenly halted and changed direction.

"Chromia what are you doing!"

"There's someone trapped here, I heard them shouting."

Acid storm growled and ran after her. "It'll be a trap, it's a trick!" He slid to a halt as he entered another small room, opening up onto a large expanse below them. Hanging in suspended in the centre of the giant sphere was a large pulsing orb, swirling dark and ominous. His optics widened in shock as he drew up to Chromia's side.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is..." She murmured.

"I think it used to be..." Acid storm replied, his mouth parted in shock.

"Oh my." Elita cried out as she skidded to a halt. "Is that?"

"Yeah... you found Vector Sigma." The new voice took them by surprise, each one turning slowly to address the mech, currently strapped to a vertical berth against the wall. "Would someone mind lettin' me down?" Jazz quirked them a humourless grin.

Stood in shock the three stared at him, disbelief clear on their faces. That was until an all too familiar voice reached their audio, giving commands to seal off the exits.

"Shockwave!" Acid storm, pushed the femmes towards Jazz. "Get him, get out... I'll distract Shockwave." With that he was gone.

The femmes acted quickly, releasing a severely weakened Jazz from his bonds, supporting him between them as they made their escape. Elita glanced at the timer on the detonator, it's digital read out counting down, klik by klik. There was no sign of Acid storm as they made their way to the only elevator. Releasing hold of Jazz, Elita handed Chromia the detonator.

"'Lita what are you doing?" Chromia made a grab for the other femme but fell just out of reach.

"I have to help him, I can't leave him in the hands of Shockwave. Blow it when you're at the bottom."

"Elita, nooo!" The elevator descended into the blackness, dragging her away from her leader, her friend. Jazz tugged her close, knowing that Elita was doing what every true leader felt the need to do.

"She's tough, Chromia, she'll get out."

Firing wildly at the attacking drone like 'bots, Springer was on his last nerve. "Frag it, Ultra have you laid the charges yet?"

"Almost there, Blur ran into some trouble."

"Fraggin' move it! We can't hold them off much longer, they're like fraggin' deranged or something."

Bluestreak fired rapidly, his keen optics picking off 'bots, hitting with deadly accuracy. He was putting all of his sniper training to the test as the 'bots just kept rushing them. Another mech joined the fray and Springer shot a wry grin at his leader. "About fraggin' time, mech."

"We all here?" Bluestreak asked, his voice strangely calm despite the situation.

"Yes can we please go now?" Blur butted in his intakes heaving from rushing around the generators.

"Yes, let's. Everyone move it!" Springer waited until the rest started to make their escape and threw in an explosive charge before sprinting away from the subsequent explosion.

They ran back the way they came, firing at any deranged attacker that crossed their path. Being on the lower levels, they were closer to the surface and once their it was only a short run to the space bridge.

Ultra turned and pressed the first detonator, blowing the generators. "Come on 'Lita... get out of there." He murmured before following his team to the space bridge where Sky Lynx was waiting.

Acid storm had run straight into Shockwave who was more than enraged at losing his prisoner, his base. The jet shuddered as the scientist tore into him, roaring in anger. He fought, scrabbled for the upper hand but Shockwave was too strong, too angry. In his spark, Acid storm didn't mind that this was going to be his last fight. At least he could take Shockwave with him.

He landed on the floor with a thud, Shockwave reaching for his chest. With a smug smirk, Acid storm scrambled out of the way and pulled out one of the charges and armed it. It's digital readout counted down 10, 9, 8, 7...

Shockwave laughed, a hollow sound. "Do you think your toys can stop me?"

"Even you aren't impervious to explosives Shockwave. You're coming to the pit, whether you like it or not!"

"You are a traitor." The single optic bore into Acid storm's very spark as he backed up from the approaching purple mech.

Shockwave lifted his arm, revealing a control panel there and pressed a few buttons. Acid storm gasped as a pulse of electricity shot through him and he collapsed to the floor. His spark sank as the charge fell dead onto the floor, nothing more than a lump of harmless matter.

"Nooo, you! You're the traitor... you experiment on your own kind, on Decepticons... Megatron will stop you."

Lifting the mech off the ground, Shockwave revealed a long spike protruding from his arm in place of his hand. "Megatron will be the first to fall." He gloated piercing the jet's chest without hesitation, relishing the jet's scream of agony. "And by the way, I have also deactivated your explosives up there... you have failed." Dropping him to the floor, Shockwave wasted no more time, he had his work to collect and get through the space bridge before it was too late. He stepped over the struggling mech on the floor and sprinted towards what once was Vector Sigma.

Elita raced back. Her spark twisting when she heard an unearthly scream. She ran, avoiding incoming assailants, firing angrily. Where was he? He couldn't have gotten far.

A large rumble of an explosion rocked the base and Elita found herself slipping a pool of energon on the ground. Quickly picking herself up, she ran back to the control tower, hoping that Acid storm had managed somehow to survive an encounter with Shockwave. He'd saved their lives by leading him away, allowing them to rescue Jazz and escape, she couldn't leave him behind, she owed him that much.

Reaching the ruined control centre, she let out a half cry of despair. The space bridge controls had been shorted out as had the charges and Acid storm's greyed out frame laid sprawled over the console.

"Oh no... no no..." She tried to tug him away, only to find him linked to the console with cabling hooked directly into his chest. He'd used whatever spark energy he'd had left to power the space bridge destination console. Whatever had shorted out the rest he'd managed to salvage their destination and reprogram it, keeping it online before succumbing to his injuries.

"You won't go in vain." Elita reset the charges and sat her weapon clutched into her lap to guard them. The detonator wouldn't work now, she'd have to detonate manually. Watching the viewer located at the space bridge, she smiled as she watched her friends gather and nodded as Jazz and Chromia reached their location, following the rest through the space bridge, but where was Ultra? She couldn't blow it until they all got through and he would have made sure he was the last to make the jump. Her spark sank and her finger hovered over the manual detonator.

Ultra raced towards Chromia and Jazz. "Where is she? Why hasn't the base blown?"

"She went back, to help 'Storm... Ultra I..."

"It's alright, get him to the space bridge, don't wait for me!" He ran back towards the base, weapons fire reaching his audio. A shot caught him, melting through his plating and he cried out and stumbled.

"Quick grab him, let's go!" A new voice, prompted him to peer up, his optics greeted by a familiar red.

"Hot Rod?"

"The same, mech." The young 'bot grinned. "Need a lift to the bridge?"

"The others?" Ultra got to his feet, managing to smile warmly at Moonracer and Hot Rod.

The two 'bots shook their helms forlornly, no words needing to be spoken. Ultra nodded and slapped Hot Rod's shoulder. "'Lita's still in there..."

Hot Rod glanced at Darkmount and turned back to Ultra. "You sure about this?"

"I can't leave her... not after everything...Go..."

Ultra didn't wait for a response and headed for the elevator to take him to the top levels. His optics met theirs as he began his ascent and he gave them a small reassuring nod.

Elita slammed her fist down onto the console. "Frag it! Ultra where are you!" She let out a despairing sob. "I can't blow it until I know you're safe. Pleaase."

"Thought war wasn't the place for sentiment."

Elita spun round and almost fell to her knees. "You're supposed to escape..."

Rushing to the femme, he gathered her up in his strong arms. "Couldn't leave you behind."

"Ultra you don't understand, the detonator needs to be done manually... I can't leave."

Movement of pale teal and Red flashed across the screen on the console as Hot Rod and Moonracer leapt through the event horizon. Switching it off, he took hold of the detonator from Elita's tight, shaking grip and held her close, tilting her helm up to gaze in her optics.

"It's okay now...we leave together." He smiled and pressed the detonator switch, dropping it to the floor. His held her tightly as he dipped his helm low to claim her mouth in a sweet tender kiss, which she returned fervently.

Cupping her cheek, their lips and glossa entwined in a slow sensuous dance, he shielded her from the initial force of the blast as the blazing white light of white hot fire engulfed them both.

The shimmering pool of the event horizon flickered and stuttered. The purple mech took one last look back at what had been his home. Clutching a large black box to his chest he slipped across the temporal vortex before it too was engulfed in a wave of fire. /lj-cut


	9. Reflection

A/N: Sorry for the almost 3 month wait ^_^;; It's been an RL kinda time. But I'm slowly getting back on top of things :3 I hope it's worth the wait.

/comm speak/

**bond speak**

Shades of Grey

Chapter 9

Earth

The horizon shimmered in the blistering sun, the curvature of the Earth making the mountains in the distance seem a lot closer than they actually were. Two cars kicked up billows of sand and dust behind them as they raced across the vast barren plain. The smaller of the two glinted brightly in the midday sun, his bright yellow paint a shining beacon in the distance to the optics of the lone mech waiting in the shadows of the mountains. The black and white Datsun looked like it had been at the wrong end of a multi-car pileup. His once proud police car alt, although battered, still managed to maintain high speeds across the baking desert.

/Mirage, report./ Prowl's command filtered through a static filled line to the noble's comm.

Blue optics narrowed as they watched the two cars approach. /Things have looked better, Prowl./ He began, constantly checking for signal hacks and tracking, could never be too careful with Soundwave. /They have a rotational guard shift around the space bridge, and they'll even shoot their own if they approach without Megatron's authorisation. We maybe only three of us but Megatron seems to be taking us as a threat seriously./

/As well he should!/ Bumblebee retorted over the line.

/Bumblebee, please desist in hacking our comm. signal./ Prowl reprimanded patiently. /Mirage, maintain a visual on the space bridge, we should arrive in no more than three hours./

/Prowl there's something else./

/What is it?/

/They took Jazz through approximately fourteen hours ago. He was one of Shockwave's prisoners./ The noble hesitated, unused to seeing his superior so beaten. /He didn't look good. If we are to blow the bridge, he'll be trapped with Shockwave./

/Understood, we're to stick to the plan./ Prowl's reply was succinct yet firm as Mirage knew it would be.

/Are you certain? I mean he's your-/

/-My personal feelings aside, Mirage, they will not aid us in our plans to rescue the others./ The comm. line fell silent and Mirage knew that the black and white would be torn about the decision they all knew he had to make. After a few seconds, Prowl spoke up, his voice unwavering if thick with untold personal reluctance. /Jazz is more than capable of taking care of himself. Continue as planned, Mirage, thank you./

Knowing no more need be said, the noble closed the comm. line and transformed into his alt mode. Making his way along a narrow cut path, the noble vanished among the shadows of the mountains.

Reaching the mountains a couple of hours later, both mechs transformed. Bumblebee went ahead as the scout and Prowl followed quietly in his wake, his processor going over and over the fact that Jazz was in the hands of Shockwave and what Prowl knew from past experience that mech was capable of.

The stories and rumours about Shockwave didn't do him justice. His deeds and unlawful experiments were what got him his reputation as a ruthless, insane scientist, loyal to a fault but Prowl knew there was much much more lying quietly beneath Shockwave's understated surface and there were lengths that that mech was and had been for a very long time, prepared to go to in order to get what he wanted. All Prowl couldn't fathom was what would Shockwave want with Jazz.

_"You're learning quickly." Shockwave surmised quietly, his optic fixed on the progeny of his sibling and her mate. "Your progress has been commendable, it will soon be time."_

_Those bright optics peered up at him, always inquisitive, searching. Shockwave had no doubt that the mechling would be constantly asking why had he been able to speak. Despite that part of his processor not developing as expected, his mental aptitude tests were off the chart for a sparkling of his age, he was going to be the perfect subject. If Shockwave had had the ability to smile as the mechling flicked his winglets happily; another test completed in record time, he would have done. For there was such trust in those cobalt blue orbs and that sweet innocent smile, it would only make what Shockwave knew he had to do soon, a much easier process, so long as Prowl continue to trust him implicitly, his experiments would continue as planned._

Deep in thought, Prowl didn't hear Bumblebee calling out his designation repeatedly and didn't notice the large crevice he was heading towards blindly. Leaping forward, the yellow mech grabbed the SIC and dragged him over the crevice before he toppled deep into the mountain. Prowl stumbled, startled by the sudden movement and his added weight sent both mechs tumbling down the rocky side of a naturally carved valley and to the narrow road below.

"Frag, Prowl could you lose your processor at a worse time?" The yellow mech groaned, shifting beneath the weight of his superior.

Grunting, Prowl picked himself up carefully from the minibot's frame and graciously helped him to his feet. "I apologise, I was distracted."

"You think?" Bumblebee grumbled, brushing off sand and dirt from his extremities. "I think I have dents in places you shouldn't get dents." Casting a look at his superior, the smaller mech threw him a reassuring grin, noticing how his usually proud door wings were lying flatter on his back. "No harm done though, Prowl…. Prowl? Are you alright?" Bumblebee's concern grew when Prowl didn't reply straight away, his optics dim and vague; something he'd only seen happen when Prowl was computing many different tactical scenarios at once or running massive statistical analyses for risk percentages of any planned missions. "Prowl?"

_He waited for what seemed like an age at the gates of door of the palace for the transport to arrive. His optics stole a glance to his side as a deep purple hand rested firmly on his shoulder._

_"I assume it is redundant of me to ask how you're feeling?" The single optic glowed in the darkness as the greyed out form of his sibling, Prowl's creator was carried on a medical hover pad to the waiting transport._

_Doorwings arching on the mechling's back, the young Prowl followed his gaze, his face impassive, unnaturally blank. "My sire will soon follow her, won't he?" He asked quietly._

_Glancing down at the still young mechling, Shockwave's optic flickered at the question, he didn't want to jeopardise everything he'd worked for by emotionally compromising his only subject, but lying to Prowl was out of the question. The mechling always knew and was relentless in finding answers to the questions he didn't understand the answer to. "Yes, they are bonded. When one half of a bond off lines, the other is almost certain to follow."_

_"Why?"_

_Meeting the curious optics of the youngling, Shockwave had to admit defeat, his research hadn't yet progressed that far, he had never gotten the chance with his sibling so weak in the spark. "There is no available research to answer your question young, Prowl."_

_"It's rather counter productive for society." The youngling murmured, returning his gaze to the departing transport. "How long?"_

_"He will pass within the vorn."_

_"You recommend I should spend time with him?"_

_"He is your sire."_

_Prowl's faceplates shifted into a frown and the youngling stared at the floor, his processor working faster than was thought possible for a youngling – thanks to Shockwave. "Wouldn't that just make his passing harder on my spark?"_

_Shockwave found himself surprised at the question and his optic studied the black and white youngling carefully. "What do you currently feel?"_

_"About what?" Prowl replied, his optics flickering in confusion._

_"The current situation, the passing of your creator and the news that your sire will follow?"_

_A moment passed between them while the youngling thought about the question. "Am I supposed to feel something?"_

_Interesting, Shockwave thought to himself, very interesting. This was certainly a new development in his research and it wasn't supposed to have happened until he'd authorised the installation of the battle computer into Prowl's processor. "Feelings are an unnecessary bi-product of our sparks, Prowl, but they shouldn't be forced if they are not there to begin with. Do you wish to see your sire?"_

_Tilting his helm slightly, Prowl's optics flickered. "No. It will not be necessary. I shall return to Darkmount, there are some of the tasks I have yet to complete." Giving Shockwave a small bow of his helm, the youngling comm'd for another transport and left the palace without a second glance._

_Shockwave watched him leave, his processor calculating in the new timelines to his research. Things were progressing better than he'd anticipated, the next vorn would be critical for Prowl as his sire was sure to demand his presence. To minimise the threat to his work and of course to protect his investment, Shockwave would have to keep the youngling away from his sire for as long as possible, a task that no longer looked to be quite so difficult as he had first thought._

At Bumblebee's further prompting, Prowl straightened and shook himself out of his reverie. "It's alright, I'm perfectly fine. Concerned but that is to be expected under such circumstances as these."

"True." Bumblebee, agreed with a weary nod. "You're worried about what Mirage said about Jazz being with Shockwave aren't you?"

Optics flickering in surprise, the tactician regarded him oddly. "I wasn't aware my thoughts were that obvious."

Scoffing humourlessly at his reply, Bumblebee started picking his way over the rocks strewn across the dusty road, caused by their unorthodox if quicker route down the mountain side. "Prowl, you're still a mech and a bonded one at that and I know you better than to think you're all numbers and tactics. Jazz means a lot to you, it's normal to be worried especially when Shockwave's involved." He grew quieter and he glanced over his shoulder at the black and white. "I'm worried about him too."

Giving the minibot a rare, faint yet appreciative smile, Prowl transformed as he stepped onto the road, his engine revving slightly as he took the lead. /Jazz picked his team well./

/Thanks./ Bumblebee laughed shortly, following suit and transforming, keeping close behind his SIC.

They drove some way in silence before Prowl re-opened their comm. /I'm glad he has friends like you 'Bee. Settles my spark, somewhat…/

The minibot's engine skipped at the surprising compliment. Internally smiling, he continued on in silence, feeling just that little bit more comfortable with the prickly tactician than he had been able to be before. If Jazz was bonded to him, there had to be something more beneath that hard exterior, no matter the questionable circumstances in which they had bonded.

Bumblebee knew then - hearing the genuine sincerity no 'con could ever fake, in Prowl's voice - that any of the rumours Mirage had passed back to him from his invisible scouting trips to the Ark; regarding Prowl being in league with Decepticons and abandoning them when they needed him most, were grossly unfounded and he was more than prepared to clock any mech up side the head should they voice such opinions to him.

Just as he would do for any one of his friends.

Earth: Space bridge

Dead End was bored, Motormaster was not good company and he took his job far too seriously. It was the middle of the night and uncomfortably cold and the only thing that had moved was a disgusting Earth creature on top of a large rock. Once the temperature had dropped, the creature had scuttled off. At least it had provided a few moments worth of target practise, of which Dead End soon learned, he needed more practise at.

Glancing over his shoulder at the larger mech by the space bridge controls, Dead End vented a sigh and waved his weapon in a haphazard gesture. "Don't even know why we're fraggin' out here. Megatron has to know that only Shockwave comes through here. I even over heard him talking with Starscream about how the Autobots are virtually extinct on Cybertron now, so why do we have to rust our afts standing here doing nothing when Megatron could have us terrorising the humans." Snorting at his own idea of fun, Dead End ignored the glare being directed at him as he leant lazily against the console.

"You run your mouth too much." Motormaster growled lowly, optics glowing dangerously in the darkness. "Megatron has his reasons; you are not intelligent enough to be questioning them." Swiping his larger weapon, he caught the back of Dead End's leg and planted his aft on the floor, a dark smirk tugging at his lip components when the smaller 'con squeaked in fear and scrambled away from his powered up weapon. "Man your post, runt. If you come near me again, I'll shoot you myself."

Scowling and brushing himself off, Dead End leant against the nearby rock face, keeping a wary optic on the now disinterested Motormaster. He'd been telling Starscream for months that the mech was unstable; his reaction was just uncalled for and insulting. Resigning himself to a long, tedious guard duty, Dead End took up target practise once more, rocks at least stayed where they were put.

Well they were supposed to keep still last time he checked anyway. Dead End's optics brightened as the rock he was aiming at began to bounce along the flat desert floor. Looking around him, his balance wavering as the Earth trembled beneath him, his optics met the equally confused optics of Motormaster, who wasn't looking so threatening now. Dead End felt strangely smug about this, that was until the space bridge began to whine and shake. Its vast event horizon roared into life, kicking up the surrounding sand, sending the two mechs stumbling backwards, shielding their faceplates.

Shouts and yells of alarm filled the air and someone began to fire wildly in panic, managing to hit the controls in the process. There was a great whoosh of wind and a large object shot overhead of the 'cons, spinning out of control as it disappeared over the nearby sand dunes, crashing in a billowed explosion of sand and rock. The very atmosphere around them seemed to roar and undulate and the valley filled with incredible, searing heat of an invisible explosion.

Dead End felt his plating warp as he was caught in the blast wave. His screams of dying agony went unheard over the momentous roar of chaos around him. If others were screaming, he didn't hear them, was incapable of hearing anything as a final explosion shattered his baked and brittle frame.

The noise and chaotic shaking of the ground ceased the moment of the explosion, the destroyed space bridge sucking back everything in close range before the swirling vortex closed in on itself in a blinding flash.

Silence fell around the valley, it fell thick and heavy like a fog, permeating through the desert night air. Native insects had ceased their subtle clicks and sand covered everything that had been there. To anyone approaching the valley they would have wondered how a sand dune had formed between the narrow walls of rock rising on either side of the ruined space bridge and how that sand dune had somehow become strewn with metal and steel.

Just over the ridge the silence was broken by the sound of shifting metal plates sliding over themselves and movement of much larger creatures than the native lizard frozen to a stable rock above the carnage. Voices drifted into the valley on the cold breeze and a few moments later a jet could be seen lifting shakily into the air and accelerating towards the pin pricks of light on the horizon signifying human civilisation.

It's departure was scrutinised by a single glowing red orb burning bright in the pitch black night.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Mirage, Prowl and Bumblebee had converged on the space bridge's location. Weapons drawn the three Autobots were stunned to silence at what they found as they picked their way over sand blown debris.

The valley was unrecognisable and as they came to a stop at the location where the space bridge should have been, Prowl crouched down to brush his dark fingers over the cool, smooth surface where scorching temperatures had melted the sand into glass. He peered up at the other two beside him, his optics dimming in the bright early morning sun. "It's gone."

Those were the only words he could muster as the realisation that Jazz was now trapped with Shockwave with no way to get home, punched into his spark, eliciting a soft keen from his vocaliser as the aching pang rippled through his bond.

Sat on the floor of his prison, Prime's optics flared brightly and a hand instantly reached to cover his chest. Intakes panting softly, anguish flickered over his face at the sudden yearning from Prowl's side of the bond. It had flashed so unexpectedly, without warning and had vanished just as quickly, leaving Optimus reeling in its wake.

He reached out for his bonded for some semblance of reassurance, for that steadfast presence that never wavered from his side. Trapped in his cell, with enemies on all sides, Optimus knew one possibly both of his bonded mates were in trouble and there was nothing he could do about it.


	10. Answers

**bond speak**

/comm speak/

Shades of Grey – Chapter 10

Jazz sat up sharply, disorientated. Peering through his cracked visor he took in the sleek lines of Sky Lynx's interior and forced himself to relax. He wasn't in one of Shockwave's cells anymore which meant, Bluestreak! Stiffly getting to his feet, Jazz headed towards the door and palmed the exit pad. Bright light, sunlight hit his optics and an arm instinctively covered his face.

"Jazz!" Hot Rod exclaimed, rushing over to him, helping him out of the jet. "How are you feeling?"

"Like slag, mech…"

"Yeah, you look worse."

Jazz shot the younger mech a glance, receiving a smirk in return. "We make it? Where's Blue?"

Hot Rod's smile instantly fell away and he gestured over to where Chromia and Moonracer were sat. Following his gaze, Jazz frowned catching sight of Bluestreak curled up on the ground before them. "What happened?"

"He was knocked unconscious by the blast once we came through the spacebridge, but we can't wake him. Seems to be trapped in some sort of looping memory purge." Hot Rod shook his helm with worry. "We came out here in the hope nobody would hear him and give us away to the 'cons."

Jazz could only nod as he made his way over. He remembered Bluestreak's words in their cell. Experiments on the spark, Shockwave wanted a Praxian as he couldn't get his claws on Prowl. Something didn't sit right with Jazz and he had an uneasy feeling that there was a darker part of Prowl's past he had not been privy to. Kneeling beside Bluestreak's trembling frame, he gently placed a hand on the small of his back between the door wings and let a gentle sonic pulse reverberate through the pads of his fingers and into the keening mech.

Bluestreak's whimpers fell quiet and his frame relaxed on the dusty ground. Doorwings flicked once before the mech settled into a normal recharge cycle, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"How did you know that would work?" Moonracer asked softly, her hand stroking the gentle curve of Bluestreak's helm.

"It always worked on Prowl…" Jazz murmured with a faint shrug, getting to his feet and moving away before revealing anymore.

Stealing a subtle glance at Chromia, Moonracer quirked an optic ridge. "Does that mean him and Prowl were…?"

"I heard rumours, neither of them ever said anything though, in fact I remember Ironhide telling me that Jazz couldn't stand the mech." She shook her helm and watched the black and white move away to talk with Hot Rod. "If Prowl was involved, we're not likely to ever find out."

"We should make an assault on the base as soon as possible." Springer's fist landed in his palm with a hard thud. "Make the 'cons pay for thinking they can take our Ark."

"That's not going t' get us anywhere, mech." Jazz pinched his nasal bridge, still feeling the effects of Shockwave's experiments. "We need to find out what the situation is first."

"Right, I'll just go up to the next 'con and ask him." Springer ignored the glare from the saboteur and continued on his rant. "We need to take charge of this situation inow/i, for all we know Prime is offline."

"Prime, is alive." Jazz interrupted curtly, ignoring the warning glare Hot Rod shot Springer. "And we will have to infiltrate the base and try to find him."

"What! Did Shockwave take whatever sanity you had left?"

Hot Rod winced as Springer's voice suddenly became the loudest thing in the desert. "Springer, can it!"

"No! I will not. Somebody needs to step up and take charge and sitting back waiting for someone to infiltrate our own base, who will very likely get captured, tortured and offlined, is a waste of time." He met Jazz's glare, equally. "We have lost too many already."

"Don't ya think I know that?" Jazz asked calmly, optics narrowing behind his broken visor. "I don't want t' pull rank on ya, mech but I will if ya force me."

Springer growled low and stepped squarely up to the smaller mech. "I think its due time for a change in leadership."

Everyone stared at the two mechs as they faced each other, tension thick around them. Tempers were frayed and their sparks were tired of loss. Springer was reacting the only way he felt he could; he was lashing out at the one mech who wasn't really a part of their little unit. With Ultra Magnus and Elita One, gone, Springer had been prepared to take over the command on Cybertron, Ultra Magnus had even briefed him on the possibility but here on Earth, things were different.

"Who exactly do you propose to infiltrate the base hm?" Springer's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "You?"

"I'm the best option." Jazz answered, not budging from his stance.

Springer snorted and gestured at the black and white's battered frame. "You're a mess."

Jazz's glare darkened and a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Really wanna test that theory, Springer?"

"Is this really going to be solved by fighting?" Chromia spoke up, expressing the worry of the bystanders present.

"Fact of the matter is," Jazz began casually. "I'm Prime's third in command, ya don't like it? Change factions, until ya do, deal with it."

"This is ridiculous!" The green mech spluttered in outrage, looking to each one of his team-mates. "C'mon! You all can see Jazz is in no fit state to go infiltrating anything, he can barely even stand!"

Deafening silence befell the small group and Springer laughed in disbelief. "Seriously? You jump through the space bridge and you're bowing to his authority? It was them on Earth who got us into this mess, abandoned us on Cybertron while Shockwave picked us off!"

"You know that's not true! Prime would nev—"

"—Prime is Megatron's pet!" The angry mech spat in protest. "IF he's even alive. And third in command or not, you aren't medically capable of commanding this unit!"

"-Prowl…"

The group turned to look at the curled up 'bot on the desert floor, surprise written over their faces at his whisper.

"'Blue?" Jazz prompted gently as the Praxian pushed himself gingerly up to sitting.

Bluestreak dragged in air through his vents, door wings trembling with exertion. "When I was on base… After they took you Jazz, Megatron ordered searching parties to find Mirage."

"Mirage? You mean not everyone was captured?" Hot Rod piped up, clinging to that last glimmer of hope.

Shaking his helm, the sniper cast them a tired smile. "They can't find him, any trace of him or Prowl and 'Bee is missing too."

Jazz's face finally broke into a small smile. "'Raj got out huh?"

Bluestreak nodded weakly, matching Jazz's hopeful grin. "He disappeared, Megatron was furious. Prowl's alive Jazz, I know he is… we have to find him."

Visor flickering when Bluestreak grabbed his arm and held on tightly, Jazz overlaid his hand over the Praxian's. "We will, Blue', we will."

"I hate to interrupt this… touching moment but, no iyou/i won't."

Jazz and Bluestreak both shot confused and defiant glances at the teal femme, meeting the smug grin with scowls, protests already forming on their processors. Moonracer simply shook her helm, held up her hand to silence them and pointed.

"Looks like he found you."

Jazz spun on his heel, almost too quickly, catching himself before stumbling, his mouth dropping open in surprise at the trio of mechs making their way down the sand dune. Vocaliser catching, prompting Hot Rod and Springer to exchange subtle glances, Jazz advanced towards them. "Prowl…?"

Prowl tilted his helm curiously as he came to a stop before Jazz, doorwings flicking out once as the two mechs behind him smirked and waited, ignoring the confusion from their small audience. "It is extremely gratifying to see you again, Jazz."

Jazz's visor flickered as he probed the bond between them. **I thought I wouldn't see you again…**

**You underestimate me.**

**Never, mech. Prime?**

Prowl's optics flickered subtly and he took a step closer, oblivious to the mechs waiting for either of them to stay something.

**He's alive, I don't know in what condition but I've felt him.**

**You blocked us…**

**I had to, Jazz… I didn't want to risk them hurting either of you. If Megatron knew all three commanding Autobot officers were bonded, he'd only have to kill one of us…**

**I know, I know… I understand that but… Shockwave?**

Jazz felt Prowl recoil at the name and couldn't help but move closer and place a hand on his arm. **Prowl, Megatron knows what he knows now, he'll know about Prime being bonded to us. I don't understand why Shockwave is so fixated on you though.**

**It's nothing, Jazz, old history.**

**It's not nothing, mech. I went through his experiments, Shockwave is coming for you and now he knows you're bonded t' Prime… he's not going t' stop.**

**We'll have to be more vigilant then, won't we?**

**Prowl, what are you not tellin' me?**

**Jazz, leave it be.**

The bond snapped shut as quickly as it opened and the saboteur frowned, taking an unsteady step back, catching the wave of irritation and loathing through the bond before Prowl pulled away.

"Jazz, you okay?" Hot Rod was suddenly by his side, catching him as he stumbled back.

"Yeah, mech… just under-fuelled is all. I'm alright." The black and white straightened offering the dubious Hot Rod a reassuring grin, his optics still trained on Prowl beneath his visor.

"I suggest someone tells us just what the frag is going on here." Springer groused, his lip components curled in disdain.

"_I suggest_ we all get some recharge. We're going to need it and I trust," Springer immediately tensed when Prowl's piercing gaze focused on him, "there will be no more challenges of authority?"

With all optics on him, Springer wilted under Prowl's unwavering scrutiny, and grunted in response, while the rest of the Autobots murmured in agreement and boarded Sky Lynx.

Leaning close to the black and white, noting that his door wings were visibly trembling with tension, Mirage discreetly opened a comm. /Prowl…?/

Giving the noble a side long glance, Prowl's optics quickly returned to the form of Jazz, his back now turned to them as he helped Bluestreak onto the ship. /There are currently greater things at stake, Mirage./

The spy withdrew with a curt nod following the others into the jet, urging the lingering Bumblebee to do the same as Jazz stepped out of Sky Lynx once more with a look both mechs recognised. Approaching Prowl, the two glanced at him as he passed. Jazz was a mech on a mission, he wanted answers and in their experience, Jazz was not a mech who ever stopped until he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.


	11. History

Chapter 11

_"Prowl?" Shockwave's helm tilted at the youngling peering out of the window of Darkmount. "Why aren't you working?"_

_The young Praxian's sensory panels flicked upwards. "There was a commotion down in the courtyard; I heard my name being called."_

_Making a silent note to teach Prowl how to control his emotions more adequately, especially with such visual indicators like his sensory panels; Shockwave returned his focus to his own work. "Mm, it was of no concern, Prowl do not worry yourself, return to your studies."_

_Turning to regard Shockwave with narrow optics, Prowl took a bold step forward. "Has my Sire attempted to see me, Shockwave?"_

_Single optic glowing a fraction brighter, Shockwave met the young mech's scrutinising gaze, impressed that he had the nerve to question him when his own subordinates quaked in fear before him. "He has." Seeing no reason to lie to the young mech; Shockwave replied with bland disinterest, Prowl wasn't a youngling that could be fooled easily._

_"Why didn't you tell me?" Prowl clenched a fist, approaching his guardian._

_"I did not think it was relevant."_

_"How could it not be relevant?"_

_Shockwave ignored Prowl's growing ire; younglings were prone to emotional outbursts regardless of how gifted they were and Prowl was no exception. "You expressed no desire to see your Sire when your creator passed and I did not think it would be appropriate for him to inflict his emotional instability on you now his time is drawing near."_

_Prowl bristled in irritation, he despised anyone making his decisions for him and couldn't help the growing concern that Shockwave was hiding something from him. "I know that was him in the court yard. He was trying to see me. Why did you stop him, he is part of your family, why was he treated so harshly?"_

_At that, Shockwave placed his data pad down and moved around his desk towards Prowl who stood his ground defiantly. The scientist's tone was quiet, firm and not without a hint of warning. "You are asking too many questions, Prowl. What have I taught you about being observant and paying attention to what is occurring around you?"_

_"You're keeping us apart. Why?" Prowl demanded._

_"I will not answer conjecture. Return to your work."_

_Prowl grabbed the large mech's arm as he turned away from him, uncaring that Shockwave towered over him. The bond of family was still something that Prowl regarded with respect if not emotional attachment and failed to realise the threat until it was too late. "What are you hiding from me!"_

_Moving smoothly and with seemingly little effort, Shockwave took hold of the much smaller mechlet and had brought him to his knees, before Prowl had even realised what had happened. Holding the captured, sensitive sensor panel tightly, ignoring the surprised yelp of pain; Shockwave remained impassive, dangerously calm despite his frustration. "You need to realise your place, Prowl. Family, bonds, emotions are a weakness you cannot afford. Your Sire will offline within the cycle and our work will continue. I have forbid him to see you as he is currently emotionally imbalanced and does not agree with my work. He will try to use your weaknesses against you. This, I cannot allow. You are still too young to realise your importance, Prowl What I have begun here with you will benefit our entire race and usher in a new future. My future. Now," releasing the young mech, letting him fall to the floor with a whimper, Shockwave straightened and returned to his work. "Return to your work and cease this inane questioning, I have much to do."_

_Shockwave never uttered a threat but Prowl could sense the tone of voice and the faintest flicker of that singular red orb embedded in his guardian's helm. Picking himself up off the floor, sensory panels gingerly twitching after the assault, he bowed his helm and returned to his station. Shockwave's words left him unsettled, his Sire was not known for his emotional out bursts and losing his creator would not be enough to destabilise him to the point of turning against those he cared about, especially his own creation._

_Glancing subtly over at Shockwave, Prowl pushed his unease and lingering pain aside, hiding it from the scientist. Something was not quite right and Prowl was going to find out all the facts. All of the skills Shockwave had taught him and the upgrades he'd installed into his processor were going to be put to the test finding out exactly what his guardian was working on and why he was so important that Shockwave maintained he had minimal to no contact with anyone. For the first time in his life, Prowl knew he was going to have to break the rules._

Earth

"What are you hiding from me?"

Prowl's helm bowed and his spark lurched in his chest as his irate bondmate approached him, his presence forcing through Prowl's closed end of the bond. "Jazz I—"

"—No! You _will_ tell me." Jazz grabbed Prowl's arm and had tugged him round to face him. "What does Shockwave want with you? Why has he tortured Bluestreak? You know what he's doing don't you?"

"I don't have all the facts yet, I can only guess—"

"—Don't guess. What do you know?"

Attempting to pull away from the saboteur's firm grip, Prowl avoided his gaze, long repressed memories flitting through his processor. He'd fooled himself for far too long in thinking he could out run Shockwave forever. "You wouldn't understand."

Jazz scoffed in disdain and reasserted his hold on his bondmate. "You _make_ me understand, Prowl." Grabbing his face and forcing the stoic mech to look at him, Jazz glared at him fiercely. "You've never had a problem with it before, so don't shy away from it now."

Meeting the gaze of that brightly glowing visor on the face of that earnest mech standing before him, Prowl wilted, his resolve finally, after vorns of secrecy; cracking. "It's complicated," he began quietly, gently taking hold of Jazz's hand and leading him away from Sky Lynx and the others. "I have firewalls, security protocols in place to prevent anyone accessing the information stored in my processor. If Megatron got hold of it, it would be disastrous."

Visor flickering in surprise, Jazz stared at the Praxian. "You mean you have encrypted parts of your own coding, your own processor?"

"No, I didn't." Prowl corrected, flipping open a panel on his chest, just below the cabling of his neck, exposing critical wiring and cabling leading directly into his processor. "I wasn't created to be an enforcer, Jazz. It wasn't even a vocation of my family. I was wanted for an entirely different purpose, Shockwave twisted that purpose and he made sure that any and all information associated with his project be kept secret."

Staring at the exposed port, realisation slowly dawning on the saboteur, Jazz shook his helm in disbelief. "You mean I have to—Prowl I can't do that, it could fry your circuits, scramble your processor."

"I trust that you will be extra cautious then?" Prowl tried to lighten the mood with a faint smile, only for it to fade almost instantly at Jazz's worry. "There is no other way; Shockwave ensured that the information could not be garnered by conventional means. You are a spy, Jazz this is what you're trained to do. I am Shockwave's secret, the key to his project, the key to stopping him lies buried in my processor. This is the price of Intel and you're right, Jazz you do need to know. I have to stop running from my past. We cannot defeat the Decepticons with the forces that we have, we need something to use to our favour, a bargaining chip if you will. Turning them against each other is the only way to gain the upper hand. You know this as well as I do. You want to know how to stop Shockwave, know what he's doing?"

Pulling his bondmate closer, the bond fully opened between them and Optimus imprisoned on the Ark. Prowl brushed his lip components chastely against Jazz's, sending his affections for them both through their connection and settled Jazz on the ground of a secluded spot, beside him. "You have no other choice."

"But, I didn't think I'd have to hack you, Prowl. This is wrong."

"This…" Taking hold of Jazz's hand and kissing the back of it tenderly, Prowl's deft fingers released a panel on the saboteur's arm and pried free a cable, plugging it into the exposed port on his chest. His helm rocked back and his vents took in air sharply at the sudden pain of intimate contact, his voice a raspy whisper. "Is war."

Cybertron

_Praxus on the whole was a very private city and so nobody had questioned the sudden disappearance of its Lord and bondmate. It was common knowledge that the femme had been quite ill for some time and her creation was still too young to take over the mantle of leadership. Prowl knew no alarm would be raised to search for him or his missing Sire, Shockwave had all the connections and nobody would dare accuse the scientist of harming his family or committing wrong doing against the general populace, nobody with any sense of self preservation at least._

_Moving through the lower levels of Darkmount was enough to rattle the sturdiest of mechs, but then Prowl had always been more than ordinary. He walked with a confident stride, helm held high, his emotions firmly hidden out of sight of prying optics. He was still a young mech but he'd been taught that if he walked and talked like he belonged, he was less likely to be questioned. Shockwave would find out about his excursion, he wasn't afraid, he would deal with the consequences as they arose, all he was focused on now was getting to the subterranean vaults and finding out where Shockwave had imprisoned his Sire._

_The deeper he went the chance of him getting stopped decreased. These were an almost private area for his guardian, one in which he permitted few entry. Prowl had watched quietly from the sidelines, he had seen the company Shockwave had invited down into the vaults, for whatever purpose. Prowl knew it was ironic that he was being trained to observe and yet at the same time being told he was not to see anything. Not to question._

_The young Praxian – following his altercation with his guardian - had dug deeper into his own files, hacked past Shockwave's vast, complicated network of security encryption, ensuring that the blame for the intrusion would not rest on his helm. Prowl felt no guilt at the thought that another subordinate had paid the price for his deeds. Guilt was not something he had been taught or had seen from his guardian and so he didn't understand the need for the concept. In Prowl's processor guilt was counter-productive._

_Walking quickly through the dark, cramped tunnels beneath Darkmount, Prowl pressed on to his location. The encrypted files hadn't told him everything. There had been large segments of information that had been deleted, or deliberately corrupted, this had only served to further deepen his suspicions. Hesitating before a large reinforced steel door, Prowl glanced over his shoulder, making sure he hadn't been followed. Wasting no more time he hacked expertly into the locking mechanism and allowed himself a subtle smirk of satisfaction when something inside the door clunked into place. The young mech's frame soon disappeared behind the steel, closing it securely behind him, unaware of a hidden lens zooming in on the entrance – just as it was programmed to do when an individual gained entry to the inner-most vault – managing to capture the fleeting image of a sensory panel, glaringly white in the dark._

Earth

Optimus tensed visibly, deep in recharge, his fingers digging into the floor as his helm tossed from side to side. Ratchet sat beside him, faceplates furrowed with concern, audio picking up the softly whispered names of the Prime's bond mates. Glancing warily across at their guard, the medic sincerely hoped that Optimus would wake soon. It was bad enough that Megatron was already planning to use the bond against the Autobot leader to try and entice Prowl to return, if he learned that Jazz was involved too, they would lose their only advantage.

"Optimus, wake up, Fraggit." Ratchet hissed urgently, gently shaking the Prime in an attempt to rouse him from recharge. Frowning in concern, Ratchet ran a passive scan over the unresponsive mech, this recharge was much more than it seemed and it had come over him so quickly. "Slaggin' bond mates. Couldn't you have waited a little while longer before doing a show and tell?" He muttered sullenly, his optics shifting to the guard as he moved suddenly.

The guard fumbled absently with his weapon, almost dropping it in an increasing show of apprehension. Watching closely, Ratchet idly scanned the mech. The guard's spark was pulsing hard and fast, his energon pumping around his frame at an alarming rate and his energy field was flaring wildly. It was almost as though the mech were afraid. In a few seconds more, Ratchet realised why.

The deep blue, almost purple mech strolled confidently beside Megatron towards the cell. Single red optic saw everything and Ratchet's spark lurched when it shone a fraction brighter when it fixed on Prime.

"Remove him." Megatron commanded, ignoring Ratchet's glower. Turning to shockwave the Decepticon leader rested a hand on the purple mech's shoulder. "Try to make sure he's returned in one piece, Shockwave. I'm not finished with him yet and I'd like him to be at least… aware of what's happening around him."

"As you wish, my Lord Megatron." Shockwave inclined his helm in respect.

Unimpressed by Shockwave's typical sycophantic idolisation of him, Megatron took one last sneering look at his prisoners and swept out of the room, looking more relaxed and in control than Ratchet had ever seen him.

"Leave the medic. He is of no importance." Shockwave ordered as the guards grabbed the still recharging Optimus, dragging him out of the cell.

Ratchet rushed forward, when one of the 'cons dared to kick First Aid out of the way, only to be held back by another guard he hadn't noticed in the corner. Struggling against his captor, Ratchet growled at Shockwave who eyed him curiously. "You're despicable! You did that!" The medic pointed at First Aid whimpering, terrified on the floor. "You'll meet a sticky end, Shockwave. Mark my words."

Tilting his helm as though Ratchet were a specimen in a cage, Shockwave let out a grunt of acknowledgement. "Your protocols appear to be defective, _medic_," the purple mech drawled, "I can_ fix_ that now for you, if you wish?"

Ratchet stilled as the larger mech drew closer, a small drill took the place of his hand, and Shockwave pressed it against the hidden entry port of Ratchet's helm, with enough pressure to pierce the white plating. Gritting his denta as the whine of the drill rattled through his processor, the medic met the 'con's unwavering, unfeeling stare with cold, hard optics. "I'm as old as you are, Shockwave. I know exactly what you do to 'bots. I'm ready to die for my leader, are you?"

If he were capable Shockwave might've smiled at the fighting words. "My aspirations exceed your own. It is why Autobots lose, why you will _always_ be inferior." With that he withdrew the drill and with a sharp wave of his hand instructed the guards to drag the unconscious Autobot leader from the cell.

"Cold-sparked fragger." Ratchet growled, staring after him.

"He'll not be the same," the eerily calm voice of First Aid sounded impossibly loud in the cramped cell and sent chills rippling down the length of Ratchet's back struts. "They never are once _he's_ been inside your processor."

Cybertron

_"Sire!" Prowl couldn't help the sharp intake of air at the sight of his once regal and powerful creator hanging from the wall by his wrists, with half of his plating damaged or missing. "Wh—what happened?" In spite all of his training and time with Shockwave and all the things he'd witnessed being done to other mechs in the name of science and progress; the young Praxian was not prepared to deal with something as horrifying as one's own creator shackled and debased beyond humiliation._

_"Prowl… shouldn't bszzpttee here." The voice that had ruled over an entire city was now broken and laced with static. Blue optics dimmed at the sight of his creation, he'd already grown so much._

_Rushing to his side, trying desperately to pry the shackled binding his Sire's wrists to the wall apart with his fingers, Prowl keened in frustration. He wasn't yet in his final upgrades and was not strong or tall enough to free his Sire. Spark pulsing with emotions he'd never before felt, the small black and white struggled futilely against the bonds before his resolve finally cracked and the young mech sobbed against his Sire's chest, arms wrapped as tightly as they could be around him. "What have I done? I'm so sorry, Sire… I didn't know… I would have stopped, questioned sooner… I found files on us all of us…what do I do…please tell me what to do, please, Sire!"_

_Spark breaking at the sound of his youngling's desperate pleas; the captured mech gently nuzzled Prowl's helm until he finally met his gaze. "I am proudddszztt of you, Prowl. Need to promittssszzzttt me somethi—ing."_

_"Anything, Sire. This has to be a mistake, Shockwave will—"_

_"—NO!"_

_Prowl started as his Sire jerked, hissing as pain visibly wracked his frame. "—But, he is –"_

_"—He is… did ppzstthis. Promizzt me you will run… find help… stop him…before itszztttss too late?"_

_"It already is."_

_Prowl whirled around in alarm, he hadn't even heard Shockwave enter the dark cell. Taking a step back from him, Prowl shook his helm. "How could you do this?"_

_Sighing softly, his infinite patience coming to the fore, Shockwave held out his hand. "Prowl, I warned you about speaking with him, didn't I?"_

_"Because you didn't want me to see what you'd done!" Prowl yelled, all of his control lost as the heat of anger bubbled through his frame._

_"No, remember, think logically. Your Sire was threatening the peace, inciting riots and got himself hurt. After your creator died, he lost his way. Nobody is to blame for this Prowl, but I did not want you to be confused by his unstable state. You are still young, I was afraid you wouldn't understand, that you would believe his lies that I orchestrated this whole thing."_

_"Didn't you!" Prowl demanded, hands clenched by his sides, sensory panels arched high and tense onto his back._

_"Come now, Prowl," the purple mech sounded almost amused at the outburst. "Isn't that insulting to your intelligence? Wouldn't iyou/i have noticed something before now, if that were the case?"_

_Processor reeling, Prowl looked back at his Sire in confusion, his faceplates creasing with indecision. None of it made logical sense, not without a goal. What could Shockwave possibly want, why would he hurt his creators when he had looked after him so well, provided everything for him?_

_"He'zzstt… lying t—to you."_

_"I don't… I don't understand, Sire… please help me understand…"_

_Shockwave took a step forward a hand gently resting on Prowl's shoulder. "You know the truth, Prowl, use the upgrades I've given you, what does logic tell you?"_

_In order to think clearly, Prowl – for the first time since it had been installed – shunted his emotions through his logic centre, letting his advanced processing ability do the thinking for him. The cold wave of calm that washed over him felt like the personification of relief. Everything was structured, ordered… logical. "Logic dictates that there is no discernible reason for your alleged deception. You offered to let me see my Sire when my creator offlined, I refused. You never kept me from him, I was never a prisoner." Prowl frowned as he spoke, his own voice felt so disconnected, distant. "But what about the files I found on my—"_

_"—Deception, Prowl." Shockwave stated simply, his single optic glowing intently at the young mech. "You are no youngling, Prowl. You understand what is necessary, don't you?"_

_Hesitating, optics flicking to his Sire, very aware of how close Shockwave was now standing and only just becoming aware of the other large mechs waiting at the entrance, Prowl met the optics of his Sire. His face a mask of stoic calm; the young mech held his progenitor's silently pleading gaze. "Your deception is illogical." If he felt anything at the visible wilt and soft keen of his Sire, Prowl did not show it._

_Shockwave gestured to the two mechs to come forward and take the prisoner, his other hand remaining on Prowl's shoulder. "You are on an important path, Prowl. We can no longer afford to delay. You are ready."_

_"Ready?" The black and white enquired blankly._

_"Your final upgrades will be installed before the end of the orn, Prowl. You will be a mech."_

_"PssztptProwl!"_

_Watching with cold optics as his Sire struggled weakly in the arms of the two larger mechs, Prowl looked up to his guardian. "What will happen to him?"_

_"His spark is failing. He will be made comfortable in his final cycles."_

_Nodding simply, Prowl followed Shockwave from the cell as instructed, his face and sensory panels betraying nothing as he fell into stride beside him, knowing full well that his Sire would see no such comfort. He fell silent as Shockwave detailed the upgrades he'd planned for him. Prowl knew he had to bide his time. As a youngling he wouldn't get very far, but as a mech, he could do as his Sire had wanted, what logic dictated was his only course of action given what he'd uncovered. Given what kind of mech Shockwave planned for him to become._

_Spark-broken that his Sire would never know the truth, Prowl followed in his guardian's wake, processor preparing for the cycle he would become a mech and keep his promise._


	12. Price

A/N: Another chapter - thanks for the lovely reviews. Hope you like this.

/comm speak/

_memories_

Shades of Grey 12

_Prowl stood stiff and straight as Shockwave analysed his systems. He was taller in his new upgrades, they felt stronger, although it had taken some time to learn control of his larger sensory panels. His battle computer was serving him admirably. Ever since his encounter with his Sire, Prowl had shunted any and all emotions through that part of his processor. His thoughts were logical, ordered, he still felt but his control was considerable, nobody could see or even guess as to what he was thinking and feeling which was the only way he was going to fool Shockwave, he would have to be patient however, Shockwave was not a mech easily fooled._

_"You are tense." The scientist uttered, his single optic focused on a console in front of him._

_Prowl allowed his sensory panels to twitch and relax ever so slightly. "I'm still getting used to the frame and the processor upgrades you've given me."_

_Shockwave nodded, turning back to Prowl with scrutiny. "How is the tactical centre running? Any processor aches?"_

_"No, only a mild one when it went online. There is however, something strange that I've encountered."_

_"Mm?" Shockwave hummed, continuing his scans of Prowl's frame._

_"There are new protocols embedded into my tactical subroutines, they're encrypted with restricted access."_

_Shockwave met Prowl's curious gaze and gave him an understanding pat on the shoulder. "We had to install them in case your battle computer ever goes offline; it prevents a feedback loop being sent back into your processor which would result in a significant degree of damage."_

_"I see." Prowl murmured, his uncertainty, distrust masked expertly by the stoic mask he now always wore._

_"You're a valuable asset, Prowl." Shockwave continued. "You understand that I had to take precautions, to protect you?"_

_Bowing his helm slightly, Prowl offered the scientist the briefest of smiles – it was enough to keep Shockwave from getting suspicious. "I understand. It's only prudent."_

_"Good, your upgrades are complete. Take some time to recuperate. I have a task for you. Your first real task." Shockwave's tone was stern, his optic glowing intently. "You know what this means?"_

_"Yes. I am to replace my creators as ruler of Praxus, under your guidance."_

_"And with you as Lord, Praxus's resources will come to me. Together we will make Cybertron great again. It is a joyous cycle, Prowl. I only wish your progenitors were here to see it, but—"_

_"—They did not understand the gravity of their responsibilities."_

_"Exactly." Shockwave was pleased, he'd taught the young mech well. Now it was only a matter of time._

_"I'm ready. I will do what my creators could not." Prowl responded quietly, his processor quietly working out the probability that as Lord he would be able to get the Prime's attentions, would the Prime even believe him if he did? A mad scientist with delusions of grandeur? The notion was so ludicrous that sometimes even Prowl doubted himself._

Earth

First Aid stiffened as Ratchet drew closer, his optics bright and fearful. Ratchet wasn't certain if the younger mech even knew it was him or where he was. His quiet murmurs and occasional whimpers of a certain spy's designation were unsettling to say the least.

"How are you feeling?" Ratchet sat beside him cautiously, his optics passively scanning the smaller frame.

"Ratchet?" First Aid murmured, glazed over optics looking through him, distant.

"I'm here."

First Aid nodded weakly. "I can still feel him in my processor... I know it was him, Mirage wouldn't…" His vocaliser stuttered as the younger medic tripped over his words. "I saw what the others were like once they'd been through the space bridge. They went to Shockwave." He frowned as he recalled the blank optics and subservient mechs and femmes that had returned. "They're never the same, he does things to their processors, their sparks… he's looking for something."

"What's he looking for?" Ratchet prompted gently. His spark sank as First Aid told him about Autobots he cared about that had been sent through the space bridge only to return altered, obedient. The younger medic told him of damaged processors, sparks that had been tampered with, one half of a bonded pair surviving the loss of their spark-mate; something simply not possible by Ratchet's understanding. Shockwave had been experimenting on Cybertronians regardless of their faction in his quest for something, a way to control sparks, manipulate bonds? What was it that Shockwave was after, what would give him control and advantage over Megatron?

"He wants everything… absolute power." First Aid whispered. "Can you imagine, him ruling all Cybertronians, ruling Earth?"

Ratchet didn't have an answer to that. Once Shockwave had achieved his ultimate goal, he would then turn his attentions to the humans, to Earth's population. If he was already on Earth then something must have happened to drive him here. Ratchet knew the scientist wouldn't have wanted to carry out his plans directly under Megatron's watchful optic, that's why he'd remained behind, remained at Darkmount continuing the Decepticon fight back on Cybertron. That 'con knew better than to tempt fate, as Ratchet had seen once before, a long time ago.

Cybertron

_"This is wrong."_

_"I do not remember giving you the choice, Prowl." Shockwave replied bland, controlled as ever even as the Praxian Lord fumed before him. "Do you trust me?"_

_"Those people trusted me! Where did that get them? Where are they now?" Prowl glared at his advisor, his mouth a thin line, his denta clenched even as his processor raged in turmoil, conflicted. His already over-taxed battle computer was working faster than ever to maintain his impassive, cold front. He'd already managed to make contact with the Prime, arrange a meeting; patience was all that was required, if he revealed any of his plans to Shockwave the scientist would cut his losses and disappear. Prowl knew he was already backed by the powerful rebel leader rising up out of Kaon, a rebel leader that was now declaring war against Prime himself. He only had to bide his time. "How can you ask me to trust you when you continue to keep me in the dark?"_

_"Prowl, you know better than anyone that sacrifices need to be made for the greater good." Shockwave spoke eloquently, unperturbed by the black and white's ire. "You shall be aware of all soon enough." Moving closer Shockwave rested his hands on the slightly smaller mech's shoulders. "You have been most loyal, you shall be rewarded."_

_Glaring fiercely at his once guardian come advisor, Prowl shook his helm. "This isn't about reward. My duty is to do what is best for Praxus and its citizens. That is what this is about, Shockwave."_

_Drawing back slightly, his single optic brightening subtly, Shockwave tilted his helm. "You must have patience, Prowl."_

_"I've looked the other way on a number of occasions, Shockwave, I trusted your work." If there was one thing Prowl had learned from his creator's sibling, it was how to lie. "I refuse to this time. Either fill me in of your plans for those people, or-"_

_"-Or what?"_

_"I'll be forced to suspend all your resources." Prowl shrugged off the hand's of the scientist and faced him confidently. "I am no longer a mechling under your control. This is my city and their protection is my priority. I'm sure you can see reason."_

_"Indeed. I will have a detailed report on your desk within the cycle." Shockwave replied quietly._

_Giving him a curt nod, Prowl let out a soft ex-vent of air. "Thank you, I'm glad we'll finally get the opportunity to work together this time."_

_"As am I." The purple mech murmured softly as Prowl took his leave._

_"He's matured. Confident." Came the low rumble from behind the scientist as another mech stepped out from the shadows._

_Shockwave glanced briefly over his shoulder. "It was to be expected."_

_"Will he be a threat? Does he know the truth?"_

_"He's no threat." Turning to the taller mech, the scientist bowed his helm in respect. "He will be our greatest asset my Lord."_

_"How can you be certain?"_

_Shockwave's single optic glowed intently at his companion. "He does not have a choice."_

_"See that he doesn't."_

_From his hidden vantage point behind a solid wall, Prowl's intakes hitched. Trembling white hands balled into fists against the hidden door as he heard everything being said in the hall of his palace. Filing the conversation to memory, Prowl backed away as footsteps signalled the two mechs' departure. It was now or never. He needed to take his evidence and get out, get it to Optimus Prime as soon as possible._

_Rushing but not running through the palace, Prowl ignored any of the odd glances he received from various mechs and femmes; he was under no delusion that most of the staff were working for Shockwave. Straight-faced and determined he headed straight for the private transport. He had all the data he needed. Breaking into the private lab, he knew Shockwave didn't want him to know about had been a test of his patience. It had taken him almost an orn to gain entry._

_Stepping onto the transport he took a look back at the palace, Shockwave would know of his disappearance soon enough. It felt wrong to leave Praxus, his city, to such a mech after only a short vorn in power, but under the circumstances he had no other choice. "Iacon." He issued the voice command to the transport and soon the palace was nothing more than a shining speck on the horizon._

_"Prowl, this meeting is most unorthodox." Prime's powerful voice echoed through the room. "You realise the situation we're facing?"_

_Helm still bowed in respect, Prowl gave a nod. "I do, Prime, which is why I felt that you needed to hear this information urgently. I am certain this will determine your decision."_

_"My decision?" The tall red and blue mech quirked an optic ridge at the Praxian._

_"War, Prime. I am aware, more than aware of the situation regarding Megatron and his forces. I have evidence that indicates Shockwave is working with him and they're siphoning the resources of Praxus to fuel their cause."_

_"Praxus?" Azure optics flashed dangerously. "My tactical advisors informed me Praxus was neutral in this. They would not be involved in the war."_

_Straightening, his sensory panels stiff with tension, Prowl acknowledged him with an even stiffer nod. "That was my ruling, Prime. I acted in the best interests of my city, but Shockwave's… research has put us at great risk. I thought I could once trust him, I was wrong."_

_Regarding the young Praxian curiously, Prime's tone remained stern. "You came for my help?"_

_"I did not. I came to inform you who Megatron allies himself with. Shockwave is formidable and he will not stop until he gets what he wants."_

_"And that is?"_

_"Domination, Prime. He believes in Megatron's cause. He will use all the resources at his disposal to help him and to continue his work."_

_"You know this for certain?"_

_"I do. It's in the data file I've provided you with." Prowl's face plates creased into a frown. "I must return, he must be stopped."_

_Prime shook his helm with low growl. "Shockwave is one of Cybertron's greatest scientists. Super soldiers, ultimate control, and plans to overthrow the leading council? This changes a lot. Has he managed to complete any of his research, create one of these… super soldiers?"_

_"Not to my knowledge, Prime. This is why I must return, who knows how many more will fall victim to his experiments."_

_Meeting Prowl's earnest gaze Optimus began to speak before an alarm klaxon sounded throughout Iacon. Touching his audio finial, Optimus leapt to his feet and gestured for Prowl to follow him. "You can't be serious?" His voice boomed through the palace at a red mech rushing to meet them, his face grim._

_"It's all over the comm. network, Prime." The red mech shook his helm ruefully. "Praxus is gone."_

_/You betrayed me, Prowl. That comes with its own reward./ Prowl winced as he felt the words creep into his processor, the encrypted files were being accessed remotely. "No… it's not possible…" He whispered, clutching his helm. Suddenly he was bombarded with images of his city, his beautiful Praxus being rained upon by plasma weapons from above. His intakes stalled and the black and white fell to his knees, clawing at his helm as the unnerving calm of Shockwave's voice bled into his processor. "NO!"_

_/You shouldn't have left, Prowl. Their sparks are on you. You belong to me. You always did. I will wait for your return./_

_Prime turned sharply as Prowl fell to the ground with a scream, both hands clutching at his helm. "Get Ratchet, get him NOW!" He ordered, rushing to the mech's side as the public comm. network displayed the attack on Praxus as it was razed to the ground._

Earth

Optimus arched off the berth, his optics flickering online. Glaring up at the mech stood at the side of the berth, he growled and flexed his restrained hands, eager to grab the scientist and put a stop to his atrocities once and for all.

"Welcome back. You have something I want."

"You will get nothing from me, Shockwave."

Tilting his helm at the Prime with an amused click, the purple scientist fiddled with a probe he'd plugged into Optimus's helm, directly into his processor.

"Actually, in bonding, you provided me with everything I need. All my vorns of research and now my greatest creation controls the actions of the last Prime. I could not have asked any more from you."

"Prowl…" The Prime murmured as his worry and fear rippling through the bond. Growling in anger, Optimus tried to pull away from the hands examining his helm. "He is not yours to take."

"He was _always_ mine and you gave yourself to him. How very Autobot of you."

"I'll give you nothing!" Optimus couldn't help the cry of pain as the probe embedded into his processor was activated.

"You've already given me, everything." Came the monotone reply.

Cybertron

_"Can you help him?"_

_"I'm not certain what's wrong with him. His processor… I don't know, Prime I've never seen anything like this."_

_Sighing softly the Prime leaned over the Praxian with concern in his optics. "He's one of the last now, Ratchet…"_

_"I can only do my best, Prime. He has advancements in his processor we've only touched on in scientific research and even then only in the laboratory and there's something else."_

_Frowning at the wary tone of his medic, Prime waited for him to explain._

_"There's a coding, it's causing a feedback loop in his processor, a logic malfunction. It's like his processor is fighting itself, contradicting itself."_

_"Can you stop it, remove the coding?"_

_Ratchet shook his helm. "It's integrated and protected; the most I can do is prevent it from accessing the rest of his processor, set up secure firewalls."_

_"Will it help him?"_

_"I can only try."_

_"Do it."_

Earth

Jazz cried out and fell back, his processor aching from the hack. Intakes heaving he forced him self up and crawled to his bondmate. "Prowl… are you alright, Prowl?"

Pale blue optics flickered online and Prowl gazed up into the visor looking down on him. "You breached the firewalls…"

"I did… frag, mech, everything that happened to you… I didn't know… I'm so sorry…" Cupping the Praxian's face, Jazz rested his helm against the red chevron, his spark lurching as a burst of worry and fear flared up from Prime's part of their bond. "The coding, Prowl… I don't understand what he has on you. You weren't responsible for any of that… you know that ri-acck!"

Jazz felt the hand close tightly about his throat, slowly crushing his energon lines. "…Pr-Prowl….?" He choked and began to struggle, fingers curling into the white hand tightening its grip about him until his world spun and he found himself lying on his back staring up into the cold optics of Prowl.

"I'm sorry, Jazz." The Praxian uttered; his tone unfeeling, deadly.

Hacking into his mate's helm, Prowl accessed the recharge protocols and put Jazz into stasis before the special ops mech could even twitch in defence. Dropping the black and white to the ground, Prowl stood and touched his audio.

/I'm waiting, Prowl. Time to come home./


	13. Betrayal

Prowl marched through the Ark his optics never wavering, never straying to the suffering of his fellow Autobots. Shockwave had been waiting for him when he had returned and had immediately ushered him into a private room in order to download any and all tactical data he currently had on the whereabouts and strengths of Jazz and his collection of 'bots. The former tactician stared blankly through the other Autobots as though they were nothing more than a nuisance. Most had believed that it was all part of some elaborate plan he'd come up with and that any day now Jazz was going to come to their rescue with guns blazing, while Prowl laid waste to the Decepticon stronghold from the inside out.

As days grew into weeks though, many Autobots began to doubt this and there had already been a number of attempts on Prowl's life. Not that any had been even close to successful. The mech knew every weakness and was created to be the ultimate super soldier. The weakened Autobots simply did not stand a chance. The Praxian regarded those who tried and hoped with something akin to pity.

Shockwave presented the level of control they now had over Prime to Megatron, by manipulating the spark bond through Prowl. It had been an act of debasement and humiliation. He had made sure as many of the prisoners had been present as possible when he'd ordered Prowl to bare his spark and reduced their exalted leader to a quivering pile of parts, trying not to scream out in agony before the Decepticon war lord. Feeling the pull of power and victory at his finger tips, Shockwave knew it wouldn't be long before he had the capabilities to over throw Megatron and reduce the planet Earth to a mining slave planet, entirely under his control.

Prowl was allowed to move through the Ark freely when Shockwave had no use for him. Currently the scientist was experimenting on Prime in an attempt to weaken Jazz on the other end of their now contorted, corrupted spark bond. Prowl had always been a mech to keep himself busy and even under the influence of Shockwave the base levels of his personality subroutines remained intact. He was heading for the med bay for his routine maintenance and did not rate the Decepticon version of a medic to do more than botch up his circuits. Prowl made no secret of his disdain for the majority of the Decepticon soldiers making the most of their victory over the Autobots. He had long since mastered the skill of turning a blind optic to the actions of the Decepticons towards the Autobots. It was a skill he'd learned quickly at a very young age.

Stepping into the medbay, Prowl raised an orbital ridge at the disarray of the once immaculate room. It could definitely do with Ratchet's familiar touch he thought to himself absently. The medic however, was currently too much of a high risk factor to be allowed out of the cell he shared with Prime. Looking around, his displeasure soon turned to irritation. "First Aid." He announced himself curtly, his voice quiet if hard.

The small medic peeked through the office door and hesitated before venturing towards Prowl. He'd heard the others talking about Prowl's return. Autobot and Decepticon alike and he wasn't sure who he believed. Some said he had defected and joined the 'cons and yet he didn't act like a 'con and some swore to Primus he'd even helped one or two Autobots out of a… sticky situation with more than one Decepticon. There were however, the stories of a darker nature and it was those that First Aid was wary of. Right now he didn't trust any mech or femme to be an ally. "P—Prowl…" He stammered meekly, keeping his helm bowed low, optics not rising from the floor. "What can I—I help you with?"

Frowning at the display of submission Prowl stepped closer, his optics darkening when the Autobot flinched at the movement. "First Aid, look at me." He commanded.

Physically shaking through tension on the spot the medic looked up and dared just briefly to meet Prowl's cold optics.

Placing a finger under his chin to keep him looking up while subtly inspecting the recent injuries he'd received to his face and helm, Prowl scowled at him in chastisement. "I am not your master, merely your superior. Act accordingly." He stated tersely, brushing past the dumbfounded medic to sit on a nearby berth. "I require my routine maintenance check."

"Of—of course, Sir." First Aid replied, still a little stunned at the – what he could only describe as normal – behaviour from the stoic Praxian. "Let me just grab my tools."

Prowl inclined his helm slightly in acknowledgement and waited patiently on the berth. His optics dimmed subtly when he felt his spark clench with a deep ache. Absently his hand rested over his chest. He blocked out as much of the bond as he was able throughout the day but it left him drained and subject to a torrent of emotions and pain whenever he opened the connection. His processor was in a constant battle with his spark, the programming routed through his logic centre controlled his actions, kept him compliant to Shockwave and yet he could still feel.

He felt everything. It was as though he was trapped in his own body and the spark bond was the only connection he had left to remaining an Autobot. Jazz's anger had been the worst. Prowl had felt every sting of betrayal, the sense of loss, of failure all of it compounded and directed at him. He knew in his spark it was the only way Jazz could even attempt to reach him.

It was no use.

Shockwave in all his genius had devised a blocker through multiple experiments in his time on spark bonded couples and had had it installed in Prowl's chest, once he'd perfected its design by testing it on the twins. It didn't stop Prowl from feeling his bond mates or listening to them communicate in the brief moments they allowed themselves but the blocker prevented him from reaching them, letting them know he was still whole in spark if not in mind. He could only stand by a passive spectator while the scientist he loathed to call family tortured those he loved the most, unable to stop him, unable to even comfort them or even let them know he was there and what was worst; he was the very tool Shockwave was using to torture them with, he was the connection, the way into their bond. Only with Ratchet's help could Prowl have any hope of stopping the scientist, but getting to the medic was a lot harder than Prowl had anticipated. Megatron simply did not trust anyone.

In achieving victory over the Autobots and slowly gaining power over the human resistance on Earth, Megatron had become increasingly reclusive and highly paranoid. Starscream was the one seen on the command deck giving orders the majority of the time. It was both intriguing and troubling to Prowl. A paranoid leader was an unpredictable one and he had yet to prove himself trustworthy to the warlord. Shockwave had a plan though; the scientist always had a plan and one that Prowl knew he wasn't going to like. He had to find a way to circumvent the programming, before he succumbed completely – which was growing more likely with every experiment Shockwave carried out on their bond – before it was too late.

"Prowl…" First Aid spoke softly, frowning in concern as Prowl stared off into space. "Ar—are you alright?"

Optics flickering, Prowl straightened and gave him a curt nod, quickly averting his gaze without a word. Spurred on by Prowl's mildly strange behaviour, First Aid waited a few moments before pressing further as he was carrying out Prowl's maintenance. "I saw Mirage." He stated quietly, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Glancing at the smaller mech, Prowl remained quiet for the moment.

"When he managed to break in, before you came. He found Jazz. Jazz gave himself up to let Mirage escape. Saved his life…" He trailed off meekly.

"You know that for certain or are you listening to the rumours throughout base?" Prowl asked mildly.

First Aid shrugged, gently tweaking some of the cables in the joints of Prowl's door wings, causing the mech to wince a little. "The only way I hear anything is through rumours. I can only assume what is correct and what isn't based on what happens. Megatron got mad though. Gave me to Soundwave…" His hands started shaking when he had a momentary flashback to the memory of the hack, a cold shudder rippling down his backstruts.

"Soundwave?" Prowl repeated quietly, his hard optics now boring into the smaller medic. "He hacked you." It was more of a statement than a question.

First Aid faltered and lowered his hands. "Made me believe that Mirage had… had done… _things _to me…" He clenched his fist around the scanner in his hand, before shaking his helm. "But I know it wasn't real, Ratchet helped me with that." Looking back up at Prowl he offered a faint smile. "That's how I know the stories about Mirage are probably true." Continuing with his work the medic almost seemed like himself as he gradually relaxed in Prowl's familiar presence.

"Who else hurt you?"

First Aid blinked up at the question. "Um... It's nothing… I dropped my tools, was my own fault." He hung his helm quickly, suddenly wary of the scrutinising glare in Prowl's optics.

"First Aid." Prowl replied his voice a little softer, a quiet sigh of air escaping his vents. "Their names?"

Stammering and fidgeting nervously with his tools First Aid hesitated. "V—Vortex, maybe Swindle…I—I don't really remember…"

Nodding Prowl looked away and allowed First Aid to continue with his maintenance.

Frowning in confusion, the medic's optics flicked over Prowl's chest, his fingers tentatively brushing over the faint scratch and burn marks disappearing behind seams of the once pristine white paintwork. He jumped when Prowl's hand grabbed his wrist.

"That is not included in my routine maintenance, First Aid." He stated with a faint look of admonishment.

"Is… is this why you joined him… why you obey him and let him hurt Prime?" The small mech asked in a whisper. He keened softly as Prowl's grip subtly tightened about his wrist.

"You ask too many questions. If Shockwave's focus falls on you I cannot protect you. It is in your best interests not to pry." Prowl answered, dropping his hand unceremoniously.

"But… who will protect you…?" Came the quiet, worried question.

Optics flickering in surprise at the question, Prowl looked sadly at the medic, his hand absently stroking the plating above his spark. "It is not myself that I am worried about."

"Can't you fight him?"

Tapping the side of his helm gently, Prowl gave First Aid a weary look. "It is more complicated than I anticipated." He admitted in quiet defeat.

First Aid nodded in understanding, knowing exactly what Shockwave did to mech's processors. "You have one of the most advanced processors I've ever encountered, Prowl… if anyone can fight Shockwave… it's you…"

"That, I'm afraid… is half the problem."

Gazing up earnestly at the Praxian as he finished his work, First Aid leaned closer with a whisper. "I don't know much about the intricacies of spark and processor but Ratchet does and I can get you access… if you're willing."

"You realise if they find out, your fate will be considerably worse than that which Soundwave inflicted upon you?"

"I know… but we have to try."

"If Shockwave commands me to inform him of any unrest… I have no choice…" Prowl trailed off, looking away from the medic, his fist clenching in anger. He loathed the loss of control, the inability to stop himself from betraying those he was truly loyal too. He started when First Aid placed his hand over his tightly clenched fist and met the medic's understanding, sympathetic optics.

"From what I can tell, Prowl, you're as much of a victim as I am… you're also still the fastest thinker I know, so… we better work quickly, before he gets chance to ask."

Springer glowered angrily at the black and white murmuring heatedly with Hot Rod and the others. He had refused to be part of this farce Jazz called a command structure. He couldn't see how Jazz wasn't compromised, in spark if not in mind. None of the others wanted to listen. The attack on Jazz had taken them all by surprise, the fact that Prowl and Jazz were bonded even more so. Springer knew there was something Jazz wasn't telling them, something else that he was deeply concerned about and it rattled him to see the tension so plain on Jazz's face and the near constant rubbing of his chest plates above his spark. Once he had liked Jazz, respected him even, but since arriving on Earth and more so since being rendered unconscious by that glitch of a supposed SIC, Jazz was not a mech Springer wanted to rely on. He had to find a way to warn the others, before it was too late.

"You'll burn out circuits thinking so hard you know."

Springer grunted at his friend who smiled wanly at him. "Why aren't you over there hanging off Jazz's every word?" The green mech griped sullenly.

Hot Rod frowned slightly and leaned against Sky Lynx's bulk beside the larger mech. "What is it you have against him?"

"It's not him." Springer snapped.

"Then what?" Hot Rod insisted, his expression determined, stubborn as Springer looked like he was about to protest.

Wilting slightly and leaning closer, Springer cast a wary glance over at the small group by Jazz. "It's not him I'm worried about."

"…Prowl…" The younger mech stated, his features softening a little. "You know, if you didn't insist on attacking Prowl every time he's mentioned and even when he's not, then people might believe you when you start telling us he's our enemy and will betray us all."

"But—"

"—But this is Prowl, Springer!" Hot Rod interrupted. "What is it you have against him? And don't say it's this recent incident with Jazz, you were twitchy about going into Praxus for frag's sake. What has he done to you for you to hate him so much?"

Springer's thoughts halted in their tracks at the forward question. It wasn't a question anyone had ever asked him before. Surprising given his obvious animosity towards the Praxian. Sighing quietly, he tugged Hot Rod's arm. "Not here, c'mon…" He headed off into the woods discreetly; making sure none of the others noticed their departure.

Hot Rod turned and folded his arms at Springer after a few minutes. "What's with the cloak and dagger stuff, Springer?"

Springer huffed and sat down heavily on a large boulder. "I haven't told anyone this before, but I met Prowl a long time ago… well before Jazz claimed monopoly over him…" He trailed off, scowling at a nearby flower as though it were the fault of all the wrong in the world.

Tilting his helm curiously, Hot Rod ventured closer and perched against the boulder. "Springer… don't punch me for asking this but…. Are you jealous?"

The mech started spluttering in protest before the sound was cut off with a low growl. "It's a long story." He muttered.

Shrugging casually and propping himself up on the boulder more comfortably, Hot Rod waited patiently. "We got time."

_Flashback_

_The black and white mech marched briskly past him in the hallway. When Springer had first seen him many vorns earlier, his youngling ever curious processor made a point to find out more about the mysterious youngling who was always by Shockwave's side and never smiled, not once. Prowl had only grown more serious and cold since the tragedy surrounding his creators' untimely demise. It seemed Shockwave had a habit of taking mechs into his care, just as he had done with Springer's own creators it wasn't something he'd ever questioned, not until Prowl – the too young ruler of Praxus – started to act strangely. _

_Shaking his helm at the ire on Prowl's face, plain to Springer if no one else, the green mech quickly grabbed the black and white's arm and tugged him into a nearby room. _

"_Springer, what are you doing?" Prowl snapped, his sensory panels rising up into a sharp V on his back. _

"_Stopping you from getting slagged." Springer frowned at his friend. "Look I know you're angry, Prowl but you're a ruler now, you're the Lord of Praxus, you can't fight Shockwave at every turn."_

"_You don't know what you're talking about." The Praxian snarled and turned on his heel to leave._

"_Why don't you try me?" Springer called after him. "You always used to be able to talk to me…what changed? Too much power?" He knew that goading Prowl was underhanded but he hated seeing the Praxian so worked up and tense all the time, even if he hid it well. Losing one's creators was not something anyone got over quickly or easily, no matter how much Prowl liked to pretend he was fine. "Is it beneath you now?" He added bluntly._

"_Don't do that." Prowl cast him a warning look over his shoulder, before his helm bowed and his sensory panels drooped. "You know I would tell you if I could, Springer." He replied softly. "There's so much at stake now… don't know who I can trust…" He trailed off, eyeing Springer warily._

_Frowning in confusion, Springer felt mildly affronted by the silent question. "Why is it coming down to trust, Prowl. What the frag is going on?"_

_Shaking his helm, the black and white avoided his optics. "It's too dangerous." Looking up, Prowl turned fully and moved closer, his hand resting on Springer's arm. "Just promise me something…?"_

_Surprised at the earnest intensity apparent on Prowl's normally bland features, Springer nodded. "Anything… you know that."_

"_Leave Praxus."_

"_What?" Springer jerked back at the seriousness on the Praxian's face. "Prowl this is my home. My creators were invited, employed by Shockwave we can't just leave!"_

"_Springer, please, it's not safe here right now. Take your creators and use my secondary transport, get as far away from Shockwave as you can." Prowl pressed the key code into his palm. "Leave soon. I'll call you back as soon as I can."_

"_Prowl please tell me what this is about..." Springer insisted, fear gripping his spark._

"_I can't. Just promise me you'll leave, tell your creators it is an order?" _

_Springer nodded and frowned. "What about you?" _

_Prowl shook his helm. "I am due to visit Prime in the next cycle. I am hoping I can get this situation resolved and soon." Giving Springer a small nod, Prowl almost smiled at his friend as his hand reached up to lightly cup his cheek. "Thank you, Springer… you have been a loyal friend to me."_

_Springer snorted, heat rising in his face plates as he shrugged in growing embarrassment. "Yeah well, you'd do the same for me. What are friends for, right?" He added with a grin, his optics meeting Prowl's._

_The last Springer saw of his friend was of those sleek sensory panels disappearing onto the royal transport bound for Iacon. Prowl had given him a subtle nod of gratitude for being moral if silent support as Prowl still wouldn't tell him what was going on. Springer was unnerved by all of the young Lord's secrecy but he had made Prowl a promise and soon afterward, he and his creators were watching Praxus grow smaller in the distance until it was nothing more than a bright speck on the horizon._

_Not two cycles later, Springer learned of Praxus's destruction and in his grief and shock he couldn't understand how Prowl wouldn't have thought to warn anyone else, why he would have allowed Praxus, his own city be destroyed by Megatron's forces? His convictions were so ingrained by the time he joined the Autobot cause that when Prowl had sought him out, having learned of his survival; Springer had all but accused Prowl of being solely responsible for the fall of Praxus. _

_Springer had screamed at him in rage, grabbed him, fully intending on striking the Praxian repeatedly and hard for what he'd done. Only Prowl's rank and unwillingness to fight back had stopped his fists that time. Prowl had put up no struggle against him and merely conceded defeat and had even had the audacity to offer his apology. _

_Springer had been unable to understand how a mech with a spark could have let so many innocent die and yet be able to stand in front of him and still say he was sorry. It was then that everything had clicked into place. Prowl's reputation, his cold sparked demeanour, his quick, suspicious departure from Praxus? Prowl must have known about the coming attack and had fled like the coward Shockwave accused him of being. It was the only logical conclusion and Springer made sure Prowl knew exactly what he thought of him. Prowl had from that point on had always accepted Springer's anger; and he did so without argument, quietly and unemotionally as Prowl dealt with everything. _

Hot Rod sat in stunned silence once Springer finished, slowly processing what his friend was saying. "I didn't know you lived in Praxus…" He spoke finally, his voice subdued.

Springer grunted and shrugged. "Yeah that's the point to take away from all of this." He answered sardonically.

Glancing at the bitter mech, Hot Rod sighed and asked the hard question anyway. "You do know Prowl wasn't, isn't responsible for Praxus… right?"

Looking up to meet his friend's concerned optics, Springer exhaled wearily. "I had started to think maybe I'd been hasty to judge him so quickly especially as the war went on, you don't get to be Prime's right hand by being disloyal or a coward, but… given everything that's happened recently, with Jazz who, in case you've forgotten is supposed to be his _bondmate_… and the way Prowl never ever got close to anyone, never showed emotion, never got angry after a battle we lost, never seemed to grieve… can you honestly say that you're a hundred percent sure he's still on our side? That he was _ever_ really on our side? That the greatest tactical mind the Autobots have known wasn't just playing us all for fools? Can you?"

Hot Rod opened his mouth to reply, before closing it and opening it, only to close it once more, his faceplates creasing into a deeper frown, azure optics bright with concern.

Springer nodded with a faint humourless smile. "Yeah… that's what I was afraid of…"


	14. Progress

A/N: Sorry for delay folks, I'm not dead. Just moving (again) and changing jobs etc and holiday. :) Enjoy

Warnings: mech/mech, sticky, sexual content.

Thanks to antepathy for beta'ing this chapter for me.

_**Bond speak**_

Jazz was an overly observant mech. He saw most things others tended to turn a blind optic to and he noticed when Springer and Hot Rod disappeared into the woods. Normally, he wouldn't think anything of it but given the circumstances and that Springer was currently borderline insubordinate, he was suspicious. Nudging Chromia he tilted his helm in the direction they'd left and murmured something in her audio. Scowling beneath his visor, he activated his private comm. channel to his special ops mechs and ordered them to meet him Sky Lynx momentarily.

"What's this about, Jazz?" Mirage canted his helm curiously, his optics briefly meeting Bumblebee's at Jazz's dark look.

"I know you hear and see pretty much everything that goes on around here and I also know that you've been keeping an optic on the Ark. Now, I know whatever you went through with Prowl has made you sympathetic, but… it's time to start talking. And fast."

Shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, Mirage averted his gaze from his superior. "Jazz, I don't think that's a good idea—"

"—What isn't a good idea, is you keeping information from me. Now as your commanding officer, please don't make me order you."

Mirage hesitated, his optics meeting Jazz's hard glare. His training told him that Jazz was now compromised and was a liability but his spark was screaming at him to tell him everything, to tell him about Prowl, what the mech had been going through, that he didn't, couldn't believe Prowl was a traitor.

"'Raj…" Jazz spoke softly, his voice tinged with warning.

Looking back to his commander after a lingering glance at Bumblebee who nodded almost imperceptibly, he sighed. "Where do you want me to start?"

"The beginning would be nice." Jazz folded his arms and waited for the former noble to begin, his optics narrowing behind his visor as the spy and the minibot shared a knowing look. Keeping secrets from each other was a bad sign in Jazz's view. It meant that everything was falling apart and they were losing control.

"Go on." Bumblebee urged gently. "He deserves to know everything."

Nodding, Mirage detailed the events following the Decepticons' victory. He described how he had sneaked out of the Ark after finding Jazz there and how he'd found Prowl half dead in the desert. Bumblebee jumped in and told Jazz about what Prowl had spoken about during his brief time with them, how he had acted and how he had been worrying constantly about everyone's fate.

Jazz listened in silence, taking it all in, his processor spinning at the contradictory information. Prowl had been silent through the bond since he'd hacked into his processors. There was nothing, not even emotion; it was like he'd been erased. Jazz knew that he couldn't be offline, they'd surely know if Prowl had been terminated, they would feel it deep in their sparks. The bond was still complete but there was something wrong, something else was trying to bleed in, it was insidious and slow and sinister and the fact that all of Jazz's rage and hurt and pleas for help had gone unanswered from Prowl had left him with a very sick feeling in his tank.

Mirage stopped talking and regarded Jazz curiously. "Do you think he's a traitor?"

Visor flickering at the question, knowing it was one that needed asking, Jazz shook his helm just once. "Truth is, can't know for sure. I can't reach him." Even as he spoke the words, Jazz wanted to take them back. This was Prowl for Primus's sake. How could he ever even suspect Prowl to be a traitor, the very concept to him was surreal. He'd known the mech for longer than most and more intimately than most and if there was one word to describe Prowl, it would be loyal. Fraggin' mech was loyal to a fault. Yet the evidence was steeped against him. If it was anyone else, Jazz wouldn't have hesitated to be suspicious but this was Prowl. A mech he'd shown his spark to, a mech who'd saved his life, a mech who had accepted Prime as his bondmate. He couldn't bear to consider the possibility. Processor reeling, Jazz almost didn't hear Bumblebee as the minibot replied.

Bumblebee frowned. "But the bond..?"

"Don't know how to explain it, 'Bee. It's like Prowl's been erased but he's not dead. I don't feel the emptiness you're supposed to get when your bondmate is off lined. I think he's still there; he's just blocked the bond somehow."

"What if the fact you're in a trine bond is affecting it somehow?" Mirage asked, his brow creased in concern. "I am not aware of any method that allows a complete blocking of a spark bond."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Jazz sighed, perching against a nearby seat. "He's got a lot of history with Shockwave… that mech messed him up, killed his creators, experimented on his processor—"

"—Why didn't Prowl say anything!" Bumblebee exclaimed in horror.

"Not that easy 'Bee. Prowl just thought he was getting standard upgrades. He was a youngling when Shockwave did most of his work on him for frag's sake. How was he supposed to know what that pit spawned slagger was doing to him?"

The mech's fell silent, nobody really knowing what could be said. "Do you think… do you think he's betrayed us, Jazz?" Bumblebee finally asked softly.

Meeting the minibot's earnest optics, Jazz exhaled and shuttered his optics. "I really don't know. For all I know he is really dead and that's that. It was all a rouse but on the other hand… he could be being manipulated by Shockwave but then again he could have willingly chosen to defect given his history." He shrugged in defeat. "Really don't have any certain answers."

"Well, I do."

The three mechs snapped their helms around in the direction of the hard voice. The tension thickened considerably as Springer and Hot Rod marched onto the shuttle. The 'copter's optics were fixed on Jazz as he approached. "And if you give a slag about whether any of us survive," he jabbed a finger into Jazz's chest. "You're going to listen to what I have to say."

Prowl had been right when he'd surmised he wasn't going to like Shockwave's plan for gaining favour with Megatron. His entire being was suffused with insult at being offered as a common pleasurebot to the Decepticon warlord. He had protested and offered many other ways of currying the despot's confidence but Shockwave remained unmoved. Seething Prowl had stormed through the Ark and had focused his anger on the first mechs that fell into his radar, who just so happened to be beating an Autobot. Vortex had done the smart thing and had backed off, recognising the warning signs but Swindle...

Well, Swindle just had to be Swindle.

The mech had been dragged from the rec' room roughly, cutting off his argument, his loud protests drawing attention from the other 'cons in the room, not to mention their respective Autobot prisoners. All watched with wide optics as the impassive black and white used brutal efficiency in quieting the 'con before dragging the whimpering mech by his collar fairing out of the door. No one spoke for a good few moments as the scene replayed in their processors.

Prowl attacking a 'con raised a lot of questions in many of the Autobots' processors. To the 'cons, it was mundane: there was a scuffle between 'cons every other cycle. There were a few disgruntled growls however. Not all of the 'cons had accepted Prowl as Shockwave's lackey or whatever the twisted scientist wanted to call him. To the majority of the 'cons he was still an Autobot, one responsible for many an Autobot victory and even more 'con deaths. Prowl was disliked by ninety percent of the Ark's current inhabitants but the mech was quite frankly too dangerous to approach.

Some had tried and had ended up under Hook's less than vigilant care or in the hands of the current Autobot medic being forced to tend to their wounded. Even the few Autobots who had made an attempt on Prowl's life had not long after regretted trying. Prowl was ruthless and cold to an extent that even unnerved most of the 'cons. It was unsurprising then, when Swindle was dragged out by the Praxian that nobody lifted a finger to help him. Such had become the law of the land across the Ark.

Shrewd optics watched the scene take place from the darkened monitor room. He came here regularly now; he could see almost every room, every corridor. The Autobot who had set the system up had been more than just paranoid and it suited Megatron just fine to be able to keep a watchful optic on the goings on of his mechs without actually having to leave the room. No wonder they'd never been able to sneak inside and sabotage the Ark successfully before.

Shockwave had accepted his proposal – it had been more of a command really – but unlike the scientist, he hadn't argued. He had nodded, stating it would be beneficial for their mutual goals and had left it at that. Starscream, as always had questioned Shockwave's motives. He would be a sloppy second if he wasn't dubious about other members of Megatron's command staff. Megatron however, was no fool. He had always been well aware of Shockwave's ambitions; he had known the mech for a very long time.

The mech was an opportunist and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. So far what he had wanted had been within Megatron's own ambitions but now, with their forces stagnating on Earth and with no feasible way of returning to Cybertron in the foreseeable future; Megatron suspected Shockwave's aspirations were exceeding his position. It was something he intended on stamping out as quickly as possible. First he had to work out what Shockwave's weaknesses were. Prowl, as seemingly controlled as he was, appeared to Megatron to hold the key to Shockwave's plans. And if the Autobot valued the lives of his former fellow Autobots come slaves; then he would be wise to do precisely what Megatron commanded him to do.

Prowl stood rigidly in Megatron's personal quarters. Quarters which had once been Prime's, quarters in which Prowl had shown the mech more than he'd ever shown anyone and had been intimate with him. The memory seemed so long ago now. Prowl was loathed to think that that berth was now occupied by Megatron and whichever victim he lured in with him. Sensing the Decepticon leader's presence, Prowl stiffened, stilling his door wings, pushing thoughts of his bond mates far from his processor.

"You are a strange one." Megatron uttered, circling him slowly. "I have watched you from the very beginning, seen you become the mech you are now, watched as you betrayed me, did you know that?"

Not one for mincing his words, Prowl met the leader's optics steadily. "I did not."

A small smile curled about Megatron's lip components. "Mm, Shockwave never told you, how interesting."

"Shockwave does not consider me privy to all information. I am perfectly capable of performing my duties without unnecessary detail." He stated blandly.

Megatron hummed softly and circled Prowl once more, predatorily, his optics studying him closely before coming to a stop in front of him. "And what are those duties, Prowl? What is it that Shockwave has you doing?"

"You would have to ask Shockwave." Prowl replied calmly. "I can only presume that whatever my duties entail, the command comes directly from you, my Lord," he added for good measure, noting the distinctive flicker in Megatron's optics at the formal address.

"You have been causing trouble on this ship, creating tensions between my Decepticons." Megatron stated, folding his arms as he changed his line of questioning.

"They are fools who persist in fighting amongst themselves and lack appropriate discipline." Prowl replied. "And beating Autobots is an inefficient waste of energy on a planet that is not limitless in it's resources."

Chuckling darkly, Megatron turned and sat on his berth. "How very logical of you." He smiled at Prowl, a smile devoid of any warmth or humour. "Tell me something else, Prowl. What is it like to be bonded to Prime himself. Was it hard to betray him?"

Not liking this line of questioning nor the way Megatron's optics were roaming over his frame, Prowl suppressed the low growl threatening to escape. "No. Thanks to my programming." He stated. "Which was what you and Shockwave intended was it not?"

"Indeed." Megatron purred and patted the padding of the berth beside him.

Optics flickering at the gesture and looking away quickly, Prowl glared at the 'con. "May I ask what it is you want from me?"

"Loyalty, Prowl. You betrayed me once and joined Prime. Now you are quite literally joined to Prime and I have this desire to see him suffer for all that he's put us through in this self righteous war of his."

Biting his glossa, Prowl didn't respond, he couldn't risk Megatron finding out he was in more or less in full control of his faculties thanks to some clever work by Ratchet via a brave First Aid. Part of him still felt detached from the rest of the Autobots, unsympathetic to their plight. Shockwave had almost succeeded in destroying his individuality, but Prowl was not about to risk everything by acting in anger now. "How can I prove my loyalty to you?" He asked tersely, loathing the bitter taste of the words in his mouth.

Megatron's smile widened and he flicked a control beside him and pointed towards the screen of his console.

Turning Prowl stifled the soft gasp of shock as his optics fell onto the bound form of Optimus in Shockwave's lab. His frame was strapped to the unpadded berth one which Prowl had watched others being experimented on without any qualms but now, now with Optimus's chest forced open and wires trailing out from his chest, his proud, noble face contorted in unspoken pain and anguish at whatever the depraved scientist was doing to him; Prowl couldn't remain detached. His spark pounded hard in his chest at the sight and the urge to kill them all bubbled angrily up to the surface.

"To prove yourself, Prowl, you need only give yourself to me willingly. This way I can achieve two goals. Optimus's suffering and your unquestionable loyalty. Shockwave is monitoring his spark and doing whatever he does… he has requested that you open the bond fully so Optimus can feel every klik of your betrayal to him, he has allowed you to do this, no?"

"He has." Prowl uttered quietly, tearing his optics away from Optimus's frame on the screen. "And if I refuse?"

Not hesitating as he replied, his ruby optics flashing dangerously, Megatron held Prowl's hard glare. "You will die and he will watch."

Cycling air slowly through his vents, Prowl said nothing for a long moment. He had no way of knowing what impact his death would have on Optimus and Jazz. Their bond was unusual in the fact that it was a trine bond but Prowl knew that if his death caused either one of his bond mates to die with him, all hope for the Autobots would be lost. He didn't have a choice.

Jazz paced for a short while, before sitting down slowly, his face grim, his visor dimming. Bumblebee and Mirage watched him closely, worried about what the special ops commander's reaction was going to be given what Springer had just told them. The two spies were finding it hard to believe that Prowl was pre-programmed to be the Decepticon super soldier, never mind be related to the very mech that destroyed his whole family, his heritage and his individuality to do it. It all seemed far too surreal.

"I didn't know that about him." Jazz muttered his mouth pressing into a thin line. "Even when we… he always kept such a tight lid on everything, it's one of the reasons I left. I was such a hypocrite back then." Talking more to himself than the others, Jazz sighed and rubbed his helm, his visor glancing up at Springer. "So you're saying we can't trust him, that Shockwave has him under control and you think he always has… since Praxus?"

Springer stiffened, well aware of the weight of his words. "It's the only explanation I can think of."

Jazz got to his feet and headed towards the green mech. "Let me tell what I know, mech. I met Prowl on the day that Praxus fell. Mech doesn't know it and never will. That's my job. I watched him try to warn Prime, fight Prime's foot soldiers to try and get back there when he saw what was happening. I personally held him down while Ratchet had to sedate him because he got out of control at the destruction of his city, his people, his home and I was there when he regained consciousness almost two breems later. Whatever Shockwave did to him, Prowl beat it then, betrayed him then. He never came back because we wouldn't let him. He was trying to save you all but he was too late." Shaking his helm with a slow ex-vent of air, Jazz curled his upper lip at Springer. "As it stands, he only managed to save you and yours and as thanks for that, you distrust him, have made it your mission to make life difficult for him ever since you knew he was Prime's right hand. You wonder why he distanced himself from you? Do you really think he can stand looking at a reminder of what was, what Shockwave tried to make him be, what he's very likely fighting against right now?"

"The evidence speaks for itself." Springer muttered sullenly, suddenly feeling very outnumbered.

"The evidence doesn't say slag. Prowl is not a traitor until he's holding the gun to Prime's helm himself. You got that?" Jazz snarled roughly, jabbing a hard finger into Springer's chest.

Hot Rod stepped forward with a slight frown. "Hey come on, Jazz… Springer didn't have to come to you with this did he? We want to help Prowl as much as you do."

"I sincerely doubt that." Jazz snapped, glaring at the younger mech.

"He was my best friend and the first mech I…" Springer faltered his voice gruff. "You have no idea how much I want him to be one of us, how long it's hurt to see him sending Autobots to die and not truly knowing if we can trust him and being the only one who knows why we shouldn't."

"This can only help right? It's information we didn't have before?" Hot Rod interjected, stepping forward before Jazz could make a grab for Springer.

"I can infiltrate the base again, follow him, see what he's up to," Mirage offered diplomatically.

Seething quietly, Jazz turned away, sending a querying pulse through the bond as he felt a tug of guilt, anguish trickle through the connection followed by a faint pulse of warning to block the bond. Frowning Jazz's fingers brushed over his spark now fluttering in his chest as a growing feeling of dread he knew wasn't his own washed over him. _**Prowl…**_ He whispered softly over the bond, knowing that the mech couldn't respond for whatever reason.

"Jazz…?" Bumblebee prompted gently.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jazz shot a dark glare at Springer. "Mirage, go. Find Prowl, but do not make yourself known to him." Looking to Bumblebee and Mirage he nodded. "It's time to take a stand and we need to know what side he's on."

Mirage nodded and vanished before their optics.

Looking back to Springer, Jazz pointed at him, his expression fierce, commanding. "We do things my way, you follow my orders and should it come to it; I'll deal with Prowl. Is that clear, Springer?"

"Crystal."

Prowl bristled with barely contained rage. His fists clenched tightly as he walked slowly over to the berth and the patiently waiting Megatron. Truth be told his rage was just enough to hide a fairly substantial amount of growing dread. Prowl had heard horror stories regarding Megatron's berthing habits and how he treated his interface partners.

He'd seen it first hand when the Autobots had been forced to watch him take and seemingly kill Jazz before their optics. The memory caused the energon in his body to run cold. Spark pulsing hard in his chest he turned and sat slowly down on the berth already repulsed by the larger mech's nearness, the warmth of his frame. Over and over in his processor he repeated; he had no choice. He was doing this for his bond mates, for the Autobots, if his ability to break free from Shockwave's control was discovered now; all hope for the Autobots would be lost. As Ratchet had so eloquently warned him when 'fixing' the mess of programming Shockwave had installed in his processor, this was their last fighting chance, if Prowl fragged up, the medic had told him to blow the Ark and take every last spark with it.

Megatron reached out to stroke a large fingertip along the outer edge of Prowl's nearest sensor panel, causing it to twitch and Prowl to dig his hands into the berth padding with a soft hitch of his intakes. He could do this, he _had to_ do this. Give Megatron precisely what he wanted; lull him into a false sense of security. Remaining still, mentally forcing himself not to pull away from the unwanted touches growing bolder on his door wing, Prowl waited for Megatron to make his move. The feeling in the pit of his tank however; was that the warlord was going to drag this out, get every enjoyment in watching him squirm, taking him willingly.

Megatron persisted with his teasing caresses of Prowl's sensor panels, enjoying the feel of the metal quivering beneath his fingers, fingers which could so easily crush the fragile panel and rip it from the Praxian's back without so much as a flicker of his optics. Empowered by this, Megatron shifted closer, both hands beginning to roam over the black and white's frame, absorbing every line, every seam, every hiccup in the stoic mech's intakes.

Despite his reputation, Megatron wasn't just a mech for rough interfacing, he liked to savour the moment, feel the mech or femme succumbing to the pleasure, giving themselves over to him. It wasn't enough to have Prowl simply cooperate willingly; Megatron was determined to make him enjoy it. Optimus would experience the pain of true betrayal, feel his bondmate being pleasured by his enemy and liking it. Sneering in delicious anticipation at the thought; Megatron pushed Prowl back onto the berth, relishing the freezing of the smaller mech's intakes, the brightening of his icy blue optics as he pinned him to the padding.

Maintaining a calm façade as much as possible, Prowl allowed himself to submit to Megatron's movements. His intakes hitched considerably as the warlord's warm mouth and glossa proceeded to lavish his plating, sending shivers through his circuitry and heat immediately pooling behind his panel as a large, powerful hand raked up the inner plating of his left thigh. All he had to do was lie there and let Megatron have his way, he fully expected there to be pain except the Decepticon leader was being painstakingly attentive to any part of his frame that elicited a treacherous gasp or whine from him.

If Prowl didn't know better he would have described the mech's ministrations as tender. For the briefest of kliks it almost became possible to forget their unsuspecting audience. That was until Prowl felt a querying tug on the bond from Jazz and panic began to bubble through his systems. Jazz was pushing past his block, fighting to reach him. Summoning all of his resolve, Prowl managed to push back, keep Jazz from finding out exactly what was going on. How could he possibly understand anything but the betrayal at this point when Prowl's entire frame was becoming suffused with growing pleasure and excitement in spite of himself?

Suppressing a moan threatening to escape, Prowl shuddered as Megatron impatiently pawed at his heated panel, the warlord was growing frustrated at Prowl's stubborn unwillingness to enjoy the moment.

It was nothing for Prowl to appear seemingly unfazed, he was a master of control over emotions but it was another thing to keep those sensations and feelings from bleeding into the bond. His exterior was a picture of indifference while beneath the surface was a raging torrent of unwanted desire and physical excitement from incessant erotic stimulation. Prowl was fighting both battles but he could only win one. Growling lowly, he gritted his denta and gave up the fight for his own dignity and self respect. Arching into Megatron with a wanton moan, Prowl focused his processor and spark on shielding his bondmates from what was happening as much as was physically possible all the while giving Megatron every reaction the Decepticon was searching for.

Megatron's powerful engine revved hard as Prowl began to tremble and whimper beneath him, finally the mech had succumbed – they all did – growling in satisfaction, he raked his fingers over Prowl's interface panel his own swollen spike now pushing hard against his own, desperate for release as the Praxian writhed beneath him. "That's it…" He growled lowly. "Let go, let me see you beg for me."

Prowl's optics flickered at his words, shame, guilt, disgust rippling through him as he whispered pleas for Megatron to continue, both wanting it to just be over and wanting to achieve overload he knew now was inevitable. That wasn't something he was going to be able to hide from the bond, they would both feel it, they would both know.

Feeling his panel release automatically at the increased stimulation, Prowl moaned and gripped the berth tightly. Megatron shifted with a growl above him and parted his legs, keeping his hips pinned with a vice like grip. Prowl's optics flared bright and flickered, his mouth dropping open in a sharp cry as the warlord finally took him. Even though aware of the size difference between them, Prowl hadn't been fully prepared for the hard thrust, his valve stretched almost painfully, the lining pinging him with warning signals as Megatron's girth filled him completely. It was all he could do not to cry out again when the larger mech began to thrust into him over and over. His valve ached and throbbed, clenching about the thick spike as Megatron drove it home with every thrust, sinking as deep as he could go without causing damage.

Megatron growled and changed his rhythm, rolling his hips slowly to tease the already over stimulated valve. "Beg me," he commanded as Prowl gasped and clawed at the berth, his face contorted with feelings of pleasure and undoubtedly a small amount of pain given his much smaller size.

From the whimpers though, Megatron could tell when a mech was enjoying the interfacing, the way Prowl bit his lower lip, keened with almost every thrust, his control was admirable but Megatron was well aware of his own prowess. He'd reduced bigger, more controlled mechs to trembling masses of parts in ecstasy so he was under no delusions about what effect he was having on the obstinate Praxian. The smaller mech's energy field flared against his own, it was quivering with the build up of electrical energy, and it wouldn't take much more to have the black and white screaming his name in release. "Beg me…" He purred seductively against the mech's audio, running his glossa along the top edge of Prowl's striking chevron for extra incentive.

"Please…" Prowl whispered, his optics dimming, his body trembling as Megatron stilled his movements.

"Please what?"

"More…"

"Say it." The warlord demanded.

"Nngghh… frag…" Prowl breathed, his intakes shallow and rapid, his valve rippling about Megatron's hard spike every sensor node throbbing with need. "More, Megatron… please finish it…" He begged desperately, keening as the Decepticon laughed softly, the sound and movement vibrating right through his body, down into the depths of his valve.

"That's right. Let him feel everything." Megatron growled, picking up his pace once more until he was pounding the Praxian mercilessly into the berth, memorising every cry, every whimper as he fragged the black and white to within an inch of consciousness, his own spike swelling as heat and energy pooled rapidly in his components.

Prowl was a strutless mass of parts beneath the virile mech, the last of his composure was torn asunder and he only managed to keep some of the sensations from slipping into the bond. He could feel them both now, probing to get closer to him, concern, fear, worry suffusing all three of them as Prowl finally lost the last thread of control and toppled head first into an explosive overload, his pleasure heightened to impossible levels when he was filled with hot transfluid bursting from Megatron's length. He sobbed his release, senses fading to static as Megatron rode out his own overload with a long, rumbling growl of pleasure. Prowl knew he'd failed, as his senses slowly began to return, he'd been unable to keep the overload, the betrayal from exploding across the bond. This had been Megatron's plan all along and as he felt the confusion, the anguish wrapping around him from both sides, Prowl whimpered with shameful defeat, retreating from them both, their questions, their forgiveness. He fled from the bond once more, snapping it shut as quickly as possible before he drowned in the overwhelming rush of his bondmates' reactions and emotions to what they'd all just experienced.

No matter how this war turned out. How would he ever be able to face them again?


	15. Truth will out

Shades of Grey

Chapter 15 ~ Not given up on this story, once again apologies for the delay. I'm sure I don't need to tell anyone about the demands of RL. Thank you to everyone still reading 3

The wash racks were virtually scolding as the hot solvent wash poured over his frame. He scrubbed at his plating roughly, enough to begin to tarnish the normally pristine black and white plating. Snarling in frustration, he wilted and threw the scrubber on the floor and rested his helm against the cool tiles, optics offlined as he willed the water to wash away all of his sins. No amount of washing would ever make him feel clean again. The experience with Megatron had been so much worse than what had happened with the seekers seemingly a lifetime ago. He'd submitted willingly, betrayed his bondmates in the worst possible way. If he was in Jazz's position and there was a rescue mission, he would shoot himself and ask questions later. Turning off the wash, he stepped out of the wash racks and dried his frame. He felt numb, empty, alone but there was still much that needed to be done. One did not simply walk into Shockwave's lab and shoot him in the spark. Optics flickering as the thought, Prowl's frown deepened. If only things were that simple.

If the lives of his bondmates were to be saved then Prowl knew he couldn't do anything quite that reckless. He had to think carefully, turn Shockwave's plan on its head, turn Megatron against him slowly, play them against each other. It was going to take time. Prowl only hoped that they had enough. For him to have any chance of success though, he needed allies. Powerful ones. Perusing through Shockwave's files on almost every mech in the Decepticon faction, Prowl hummed softly in thought. The balance of power among Megatron's topmost officers was a tentative one at best, somehow, Prowl had to introduce an imbalance, create unrest, and disillusion amongst his highest ranking officers. It was at times like this he sorely missed Jazz's persuasive personality.

Shockwave's information was thorough, detailed, he'd been gathering data on all those he'd called allies for vorns, some even before there had been a whisper of war. Prowl couldn't decide if it was out of his own personal intrigue or a method of knowing your enemy that had him hacking into the confidential parts of the files. With his moral centre being shunted through his battle computer, Prowl had no qualms about learning the most sordid details of the Decepticon command staff. How Shockwave had discovered a lot of the data though had him even more curious. Private entries, medical records, things that even Shockwave wouldn't have been privy to in his vaunted position as Megatron's most trusted were held in these files. Yet on the scientist himself, other than what Prowl knew personally, there was nothing but his name rank and achievements prior to the war.

Focusing on certain mechs in particular, Prowl's optics narrowed, none of them could be trusted but then he wasn't looking at them to be. Prowl only wanted them to do one thing one thing only, incite dissidence and doubt. Something which could be easily instigated with a couple of Jazz's own memory files Prowl had saved from their last joining. His short time in Shockwave's labs back on Cybetron told a whole other side to the war that the majority of the Decepticons weren't even aware they were waging.

* * *

Mirage moved silently through the Ark making sure to steer clear of the command centre and any potential of running into Soundwave, he wasn't about to make that mistake a second time. Moving through the base listening in on various conversations he made his way slowly to the medbay. He needed to check that First Aid was alright that at the very least he was still online. Unaware of what had transpired in his absence; Mirage entered the medbay quietly ensuring it was devoid of any patients beforehand and sought out the medic with a soft querying whisper. "First Aid, I know you're here, it's me." He materialized only to stumble forward as soon as he did so, his helm exploding with blinding pain from an unsuspecting strike from behind.

"Get out!" First Aid snarled, his trembling hands clenching the large wrench of Ratchet's as he glared at the astonished noble rubbing his dented helm gingerly.

"'Aid, what's gotten into you? It's me!"

His intakes were racing, his optics darting between Mirage and the door. "How can I know it's you?" He hissed. "You could just be another of Soundwave's tricks. Prove you're not!"

"Soundwave's tricks…what?" Mirage straightened, eyeing the wrench warily. "I have no idea what you're talking about and I don't have a lot of time, Jazz sen—"

"—Ha! Jazz couldn't have sent you because he's offline. Deactivated! Shockwave came through the space bridge before it was destroyed and told us the whole thing. They're all dead, there's no way back."

Mirage stiffened. "Shockwave's here?"

First Aid waved the wrench at the noble frantically. "You know this! What do you want from me!?"

Shaking his helm, Mirage tentatively reached out a hand for the smaller mech. "First Aid, I'm telling you the truth. Jazz came through with some of the others from Cybertron, they escaped from Darkmount. Bluestreak, Hot Rod, Springer, Moonracer, Chromia, 'Bee, Sky Lynx they're all with Jazz planning a retake of the Ark, I've been sent here to find out what's going on with Prowl. Shockwave has done something to him."

Optics brightening, First Aid started to back away. "You can't know that, how do you know that. You're trying to trick me, give me hope, make me tell you things like before. IT'S NOT GOING TO WORK! "

"I'm telling you the truth." Mirage insisted urgently. "I know because Jazz told me, they were linked when he turned, they're bonded, also to Optimus, I know everything, I know that Prowl has been under Shockwave's influence since he was a youngling that Praxus was destroyed to protect Shockwave's work, Prowl tried to save it, he failed. I'm telling you everything I know, 'Aid… I'm not here to hurt you… please…"

"How do I know…? I can't know it's you…." First Aid whimpered as his back hit the wall and he sank down to the floor, wrench dropping to the ground as he curled his hands about his helm. "I won't tell you anything, I won't, I won't… get out, get out… GET OUT!" The medic began screaming, causing Mirage to flinch at the sound that was surely drawing attention from the outside.

Staring at the hysterical mech with pained optics, Mirage shook his helm and vanished. Approaching the medic silently he whispered into First Aid's audio. "I'm so sorry, I'll not let him get away with this… please hold on…" Lightly touching the mech's shoulder eliciting a howl of terror from the small medic, Mirage withdrew quickly, his spark clenching at the sounds spilling from the traumatized mech as he retreated.

The only mechs he could think of that would have warped First Aid's perceptions so drastically were either Shockwave or Soundwave and Mirage swore to himself, if it was the last thing he did, both of them were going to pay.

* * *

Jazz surveyed the weapons and the 'bots holding them. They were all good soldiers. The ones who had come through from Cybertron had seen the worst of the war and had been fending off Shockwave while they had been building a life on Earth. Being a special ops mech, Jazz didn't waste time feeling guilty of things he couldn't change, all that mattered was here and now and right now he knew they had nowhere near enough weapons to launch an assault on the Ark.

Bluestreak spoke first, breaking the tension in the air. "There's not enough." He stated quietly, his optics dim with fatigue from his frequent memory purges.

"Well we can't just sit on our afts here doing nothing." Springer countered, meeting Jazz's dark look. "We do have the element of surprise on our side."

"He's right there." Moonracer added, glancing at Jazz. "Subterfuge." She stated softly, as the battered visor looked her way.

"It's the only way." Jazz replied simply, his tone somber as a plan formulated slowly in his processor. "We're going to need Mirage for this, we'll have to wait for him a little longer."

"We can't just si—"

"—Meantime we get in position, we get ready to strike. We'll have to strike hard, fast and we'll only get one chance." Squeezing Bluestreak's shoulder, Jazz smiled at him thinly. "Are you up for being my sniper?"

Nodding the Praxian tightened his hold on his weapon. "I'll do what it takes."

"Good. You might have to do more than that though." Jazz replied soberly.

"What do you mean?" Chromia frowned slightly.

"Shockwave, he's been doing things to 'bots and 'cons, changin' them so they're not themselves anymore. They'll likely be the first they send out to stop us. I don't have to tell you what that means." Jazz looked around at the small group surrounding him, their optics hard determined as they nodded in understanding. "Then we're agreed."

"What's the goal?" Springer queried bluntly.

"Save Prime. Without him, we have no future, he's the only one who could restore Vector Sigma if we ever find a way back to Cybertron."

"Those are a lot of 'ifs', Jazz." Hot Rod stated mildly. "What if…" He hesitated and shook his helm at the thought but said it out loud anyway. "What if he can't be saved, what if we're too late…?"

A heavy silence fell over the small group as Jazz met Hot Rod's concerned optics. "Then we blow it."

"The Ark?" Bluestreak asked his optics wide and fearful.

Jazz nodded slowly. "If the worst has happened and trust me I'll know if it has. You get as many out as you can and we send the rest to the pits." Giving them all a wry, humourless smile, Jazz shrugged. "I'm not going to lie to you… some of us might not make it back…."

Nobody said anything for a few kliks as Jazz let the statement sink in with each of them.

"We're with you." Sky Lynx broke the silence and met Jazz's gaze with a small smile of his own. "Let's show them what we're made of."

"Agreed." Moonracer uttered giving Jazz a small nod.

"With you to the end, Jazz." Bluestreak answered, receiving a squeeze of his shoulder in gratitude from the black and white as he looked at each of them as they all pledged to follow him.

His optics fell to the green mech standing to one side, his expression grim. "Springer…?"

Giving the black and white a sidelong look, his arms folded, Springer huffed and pushed off the rock he was leaning against. "No matter what our differences are… I'm with you." He armed his weapon and threw Jazz a dark grin. "All the way."

* * *

Mirage headed to the ruined parts of the Ark, the parts that were half buried under the mountain. Jazz had told him that that was where he believed Ratchet to be held, Optimus too and he was to get word to them to be prepared. Frowning as he pressed against the wall of the narrow corridor to avoid two 'cons walking up from the cells. He suppressed a growl when he heard them discussing what was currently going on with Prime.

"I heard Shockers took him. Hasn't been seen since." The smaller 'con stated in a hushed tone as though afraid someone would hear him.

"Well what about that slagger of a bondmate of his, giving himself to Megatron. The Praxian, he's the pit spawn of Unicron if ever there was one and they call us the bad guys."

"Unicron?" The first 'con laughed. "Try Shockwave, that mech has Prowl under some sort of control. You've seen those mechs that came back through the space bridge, they were messed up. Remind me of those stories of spark eaters, I bet you all the energon on this mudball of a planet that Prowl is his big success story. He's glitched, gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, Vortex said Swindle couldn't walk or transform after he'd finished with him. He's a cold sparked fragger alright."

"Bet Starscream isn't happy about his toy becoming Megatron's pet, huh?"

"You can say that again. The Praxian's in for a sticky end, but I reckon one of his own will slag him first, they hate him."

"Yeah, no more than we hate Shockers though."

Mirage listened as the conversation faded down the corridor. Processor spinning he wasn't quite sure what to make of the new information. Prowl giving himself to Megatron didn't sound right but then in the last couple of days Jazz had grown more agitated, withdrawn, angrier ever since he'd reacted to something that happened across the bond. The black and white hadn't spoken of it since, had pretended like nothing had happened, but Mirage knew him better than that.

Continuing on his way, the spy got the distinct impression he was being watched, despite still being cloaked. Glancing over his shoulder he kept walking, staying as calm as possible as he approached the cells. His optics drifted over the guard to the last cell. His optics were unreactive, his frame dull, his expression blank. Peering closer Mirage realized that the 'bot had once been Huffer. Pressing his lip components into a thin line, Mirage retrieved a small blade. If this 'bot had once been Huffer – the mech that was never without a complaint on his lips – he certainly wasn't anymore. Taking no risks, Mirage drew closer and cut the 'bot's main energon line and cortical cable simultaneously. Catching the 'bot as he slumped to the ground, Mirage placed him gently on the floor, his blue frame glowing with spent energon. At least he'd feel no pain.

Ratchet was on his feet in the cell staring in bewilderment at the fallen guard. His shrewd optics searched the space beside him, his tone a whisper as he approached the cell force field. "Mirage, that you?"

"None other." The noble replied softly, appearing before the medic with a small sad smile. "It's gratifying to see you alive, Ratchet."

"You too." Ratchet replied. "But what are you doing here, it's dangerous, if Shockwave—"

"—He won't, I can't stay long. Need to find out how many of us are still alive, whether Prime is and find out what Prowl's up to. Jazz said to tell you to be prepared."

Nodding the medic sighed wearily. "I'm ready as I'll ever be. Prowl is… he's got problems."

"Traitors usually do."

"He's not a traitor."

"No?"

"No." Ratchet's hard optics met the noble's. "Trust me; he's no traitor but… I don't think he'll be able to do much to help you if Jazz is planning on coming here. Prime's life depends on him, Shockwave has made sure of it so unless he can figure something out fast, I don't think he'll have any choice in fighting against you."

"Catch 22." Mirage uttered grimly.

"You could say that. No go on. Get out before Soundwave finds you. You don't want to end up like First Aid."

At the mention of the other medic's name, Mirage hesitated. "First Aid… what happened to him…?"

Ratchet shook his helm. "Not my place, Soundwave messed him up good. Don't worry about that now, get out, get word to Jazz, if you don't we're all going to end up with a much worse fate."

Mirage nodded and met the medic's earnest optics. "We'll be back, stay alive."

"I intend to." Ratchet murmured as the spy vanished into thin air, leaving him alone in the oppressive cell once more.

* * *

Moving swiftly back through the Ark, heading for the exit, Mirage kept glancing over his shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that he was being followed. Picking up his pace to a jog as he approached the exit, he smiled as he felt the cool night air against his plating. Coming to a stop a short way from the Ark's entrance, he inhaled deeply, his intakes catching suddenly when a deadly cold blade pressed against his throat, strong hands gripping him tightly as a low voice hissed darkly into his audio.

"You shouldn't be here."


	16. Judgement

A/N: So yeah it's been about a year just short of a year for this fic. I promise I'm nearly done it's not dead and you're all wonderful who have commented and reread this fic, thankyou. I've moved countries and jobs and have been working on this when I can. I also lost most of it and had to rewrite but with encouragement I got it done. This is the penultimate chapter, we're almost there. Thank you for sticking with me so long.

::bond speak::

/comm speak/

Optimus arched and strained against the unforgiving berth. Pain had become something almost too familiar and he felt lost without it. His processor felt like it was floating as Shockwave gave him a brief reprieve from the perpetual agony being constantly injected into his spark. Falling back on the berth intakes panting, Optimus groaned and stole a glance to the left of him where Shockwave was normally stood. He was alone. The relief at this fact was quickly smothered by the worry and panic gripping his spark. If he was alone then it meant something had happened and Autobots, his bondmates could be in danger.

Feeling his way tentatively across the bond, Optimus searched for the one who had hidden from him since he'd burst across their connection in an explosion of emotion and hateful pleasure. Occasionally he felt slivers of guilt, anguish followed by determination and self-loathing. He was desperate to find him to connect to reassure him that it was alright but Prowl had withdrawn from the open bond. He could no longer shut Optimus out thanks to Shockwave but he was silent and cold.

::Don't leave me:: He urged softly, pushing past the wall that Prowl's presence had built up around himself. He could feel Jazz at the very edge of his consciousness, his intensity quiet but constant. He was no longer trying to reach Prowl and that had Optimus worried. The saboteur was planning something, Prowl was planning something and he was trapped, unable to help or advise or reassure. Strapped to a table, exposed and reduced down to his parts. He was an experiment for the deplorable Shockwave who at least had been pleased with his results, not that that comforted Optimus any.

His spark pulsed hard in his chest, the ethereal glow brightening the darkened lab in which he was trapped as he waited for his bonded, the mech who was more than just a cold spark, despite everything Optimus remembered. He remembered the feeling of Prowl in his arms, holding him, kissing him, seeing him enraptured in the throes of pleasure, it was like bearing witness to Primus to see the Praxian that way. Optimus's optics dimmed as he continued to wait, continued to push against Prowl's defences, his spark yearning for that connection, no matter how cold. ::Please:: He whispered as he began to drift in and out of consciousness, his whole frame aching with exhaustion.

After what felt like an age of silence, Optimus felt a stirring in his spark.

::I will never leave you::

Tensing against his restraints at the soft even tone, Optimus suppressed a keen of relief. ::Prowl…::

::I'm here::

::You left… it's been so long::

::I'm sorry::

::As long as you're here… it's alright::

::About what happened…::

::Do what needs to be done::

Optimus pulsed as much as his ailing strength would allow against his bondmate's presence, love, respect, forgiveness, yearning, fear, flowing freely over the bond.

::I have missed you:: Came the steady response, still cold and yet betraying a longing that Optimus could feel deep within the troubled Praxian.

::Jazz?::

::He's coming::

::What are our chances::

::Slim::

Inhaling deeply, Optimus nodded to himself, optics offlining momentarily. ::This needs to end. Save them, Prowl::

::I intend to::

Optimus pulled back sharply from the bond as the lab was suddenly bathed in light and Shockwave entered the room, silent and ominous as always. Grimacing as he felt Prowl's latent surprise and immediate fear at the loss of his bondmate's presence; Optimus sent one last pulse of reassurance, and withdrew as much as he could with one word of warning. ::Shockwave::

Sending a ripple of understanding and a request for Optimus to keep holding on, Prowl's presence retreated to the cold shadows of their bond, his humble apologies to his two bondmates and his love and respect for them permeated the three way bond before falling silent and still once more.

Jazz awoke with a start, sucking air in through his intakes as the groggy haze of recharge faded. He absently rubbed his hand over his chest, feeling his spark pulsing hard in its casing. "Prowl..." he whispered softly. His worry and concern for Optimus that he'd felt through the bond only served to fuel his anger and determination at what he knew he had to do.

"Recharge well?" Springer drawled from his perch near the entrance.

Jazz sat up sharply and glared at him through his cracked visor. "How long you been there?"

"Long enough to know Prowl's not dead," Springer answered, looking down at the weapon he was cleaning on his lap. "He going to be a problem?"

"Are you?" Jazz countered, getting to his feet.

Springer met his glare as he approached and raised his chin in defiance, "I'll do what needs to be done," he replied coldly.

Jazz squared up to him, his mouth twisting into something darker. "Prowl is my problem, I'll deal with him, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear... Sir..." Springer answered tersely, arming his weapon. "And if you're compromised?" He called out at Jazz's back as he stepped off the shuttle.

Jazz hesitated, his fists clenched. "He's not your enemy," he growled darkly, "but if he gets in your way... you take him down," he finished, heading out into the morning sun.

The other Autobots gathered around the shuttle looked up as Jazz appeared, they each looked weary and battered. This would be their last stand. Grabbing his weapon, Jazz placed a hand on Bluestreak's shoulder as the storm grey Praxian peered up at him with a weak smile. "You with me, Blue?" He asked softly.

"Always, Jazz... lead the way," the young Praxian replied, gripping his sniper rifle tighter.

Looking around at the others, Jazz nodded. "Today will be the day that decides our fate, it's all or nothing, if we can't win, we're fraggin' well taking them down with us. You all know what that means," the small group of Autobots nodded and murmured in their sheltered clearing. Only Bumblebee frowned and stepped forward.

"Mirage... he's not back yet..." he stated worriedly.

Jazz frowned and looked down to the ground before meeting Bumblebee's expectant gaze. "Then he's not coming back, he knew the risks, let's hope we find him on the inside in one piece." Taking a deep intake, Jazz drew himself up and stood confidently before his team. "Save as many as you can and if I give you the order, you get out and you run, run fast, take as many 'bots with you that you can. This is first and foremost a rescue mission, leave the dirty work up to me," he paused for a moment, gazing at each one of them with a sad yet hopeful smile. "Are you with me?"

Nobody moved and Jazz felt his spark sinking in his chest until he detected movement behind him and he turned to face Bluestreak who had been helped to his feet by Moonracer. "Let's go save our friends." he declared resolutely.

Jazz nodded and turned on his heel to start marching towards the isolated group of trees that had been their shelter for the last few weeks. His optics met Springer's as he passed the green wrecker and he smirked when the mech gave him a subtle nod and fell into step beside him.

Mirage froze as the blade pressed against his throat and the low, even voice murmured into his audio. "Activate your cloak, cover both of us, make no sudden moves or you'll be lying in a pool of your own energon faster than a spark pulse."

"Alright, but we have to be in constant contact for it to work."

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, tugging him close, Prowl gave him a firm look. "That will not be a problem. Walk with me, now."

Mirage had no choice but to obey, Prowl's grip was firm and it was almost ingrained in him to listen to that commanding tone. It was nerve wracking walking back through the Ark. He knew they couldn't be seen but it meant that he could also see more. See how some Autobots were being treated by their Decepticon owners, it sickened him to his very spark. Even with his noble background he hadn't condoned slavery in any form, it was distasteful, unproductive, wrong. It made him wonder whose side Prowl was really on when the mech didn't so much as flinch at the beating of a minibot.

Prowl tugged Mirage into his quarters and locked the door, heading to his desk to activate a dampener before turning back to Mirage. "They can't hear or see us now, I rigged the security feed," he stated blandly.

Mirage nodded and deactivated his cloak, glancing around the quarters he recognised them as Jazz's, it seemed there was still some part of Prowl's spark left intact then. "What's going on, Prowl? There's rumours going around that you're working for the 'cons now... last I heard you were being controlled by Shockwave. Which is it?"

"Neither," Prowl replied succinctly. "You don't have to trust me but right now your options are limited and you need all the help you can get."

"So what do you want with me?" Mirage maintained his cool, despite feeling on edge around Prowl. "What are you even doing here, we need you out there!"

"I am of more use here, trust me, there's more going on here than you think," Prowl shook his helm and sat behind his desk. "Shockwave is planning to overthrow Megatron and he's been using more than just the Autobots in his experiments to do so." He turned his monitor as he opened the relevant files and glanced at Mirage.

"Why are you telling me this?" Mirage frowned as he peered at the monitor.

"Because this is all the evidence you'll need to convince the Decepticons that the war is no longer viable, the head needs to be removed to kill the monster, both of them. They have been betrayed by their own leaders," Prowl explained.

"Holy slag," Mirage swore as he saw what Shockwave had been doing, "but why are you telling me, Jazz is coming, with your help we can beat them, you can give this to the 'cons yourself."

Prowl shook his helm. "My priority is Prime, Shockwave is a formidable foe, you are my safeguard in case I don't survive."

Mirage straightened and frowned at how straightforward Prowl seemed to be about his own potential demise.

"I need you to save the Autobots here in the Ark," Prowl continued, meeting his gaze. "You have the advantage."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Break apart their command," Prowl replied darkly.

Mirage slipped through the base heading for the first location Prowl had given him of an as of yet uncompromised Autobot. He had given no names just quarters and to get out once the attack started.

Hacking the lock was easy work, these had once been soldier barracks, mirage had lived in them for quite some time. He never thought that the day would come that he missed them. Ducking inside the room, he looked around and detected the spark signature in the back room. He was slow, cautious and immediately decloaked once he caught sight of familiar golden plating. "Sunstreaker!"

The mech started in surprise, glaring at him suspiciously before relaxing a little. "'Raj, never thought I'd be glad to see your ugly mug."

"You and me both," Mirage replied, "hold still, I'll get you out of these shackles."

Sunstreaker frowned as the Noble pulled out Prowl's weapon. "That's Prowl's... is he...?"

"No. He gave it to me. Deemed it the quickest way to release everyone," firing the acid pellet, Sunstreaker yanked his wrists free as soon as the acid had burned through enough.

"Fragger's got a lot to answer for, he's working for them," Sunstreaker growled.

Mirage shook his helm. "There isn't any time to explain but he's not our enemy of that I'm sure, can you walk, can you fight?"

Sunstreaker pushed himself up stiffly, his once perfect frame dented and tarnished with old beatings. Grabbing the offered weapon, he gave mirage a dark smirk. "Try and stop me."

"Stay in contact with me, stay quiet, we're going to get the others. Jazz is coming, cons won't know what hit them."

"This is highly irregular. What is this about, Prowl?" Megatron looked the Praxian up and down calculatingly as Starscream scowled at him from the his position stood beside him.

"I apologise, my Lord but you wanted me to come to you if I had any information regarding Shockwave."

Starscream hissed and leaned closer to Megatron. "We can't trust him, my Lord, he's Shockwave slave."

"I can assure you that I am under no control," Prowl stated, meeting Starscream's glare. "And if you had done your job as Lord Megatron's SIC I would not be standing here Having to warn you of a very real threat to your command."

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Starscream closed the distance, towering over Prowl as he squared up to him.

"Starscream, let's hear what he has to say," Megatron rumbled with amusement. He was impressed by the Praxian's gall to say the least.

"The evidence speaks for itself," Prowl declared, stepping past the seeker and handing Megatron a data pad. "He plans not only to overthrow your command, but to use you both in his experiments." Prowl didn't flinch when Starscream snatched the datapad from him.

The seeker frowned his optics glowing brighter as he read. "This isn't possible, the science for this doesn't exist, hasn't existed since our world was occupied by the first ones." Starscream slammed the datapad down on the table. "We would have known about this there is no way he could have hidden this from me. Prowl is lying."

"The science is very real. He has been working on this since his time in Praxus when he discovered an ancient Quintesson laboratory located under the central palace."

"You have seen this for yourself?" Megatron asked quietly.

Prowl shook his helm. "I have no access to his lab but there have been increased disappearances throughout the base of bots and cons alike, which Starscream has chosen to ignore as inconsequential and vorns ago, in Praxus... I saw then but I was too young to understand what I was seeing."

"Disappearances? Why wasn't I informed?" Megatron growled softly.

Starscream winced, "My Lord you've been busy, most of the disappearances were autobots it wasn't worth your time-"

"-I deem what is and isn't worthy of my time, Starscream, not you!" Megatron spat out. Returning his attention back to Prowl, Megatron eyed him suspiciously. /Shockwave, my office, now/ he cut the comm. and leered at Prowl, "Prowl go wait in my quarters, I will discuss this further with you later."

Prowl gave him a curt nod and turned on his heel. He ignored Starscream's disgusted look between him and Megatron and felt nothing but revulsion at the thought of later. If everything went according to plan, there would be no later. Not waiting any longer, Prowl sent a burst of data over their bond to Jazz and broke into a run.

"We really shouldn't be here..." Mirage scowled.

"Just open the door, I'm not as easily inclined to follow Prowl's orders until I speak to the fragger myself."

Mirage glanced back at him, "but this is Shockwave' s lab now. He said if anyone was taken inside here then they're beyond saving."

Sunstreaker scoffed, "Prowl thinks in numbers and tactical advantages, and that is precisely why we need to look in here, I'm not leaving any living bot in the hands of Shockwave, knowing what he does to them," he tightened his grip on his weapon, ironically Prowl's weapon as the door lock snapped open. Mirage glanced back and nodded before carefully stepping inside.

They stopped and stared at the sight before them. "What the frag is this...?"

"He was right..." Mirage breathed in shock.

"Who, about what? What the frag is this?" Sunstreaker glared.

The lab was filled with racks of hanging mechs, all connected up to machines with energon and chemicals being pumped in and out of them. Some were greyed out shells, long dead, others were starting to grey around the edges but all were in some form of stasis.

Mirage scowled as they walked between the rows of bots and cons. "Prowl said Shockwave was working on some sort of unlimited energy source... He couldn't be certain but he thought he was using spark energy he just didn't know how."

Sunstreaker growled, "looks like he hit that nail right on its slaggin' head. We need to destroy this place," he declared.

"Some of them are still alive, they're still warm," Mirage pointed out lightly touching one of the handing bodies. "We need to get Ratchet."

Sunstreaker nodded in agreement and suddenly yelped when something grabbed his arm. Whirling around he pointed his weapon at the mech hanging from the rack, optics peering dimly at him. "Sides'!" He exclaimed, his weapon dropped to the floor with a clatter as rushed to his twin's side. "Mirage help me!"

The two mechs worked quickly and disconnected Sideswipe from the rack, only for energon to start spilling out in an uncontrollable ooze. Cradling his brother carefully, Sunstreaker lowered him to the floor. Mirage looked on, having never witnessed this level of tenderness from either mech. "I can't stop the bleeding, get Ratchet!" Sunstreaker hollered, his optics desperate as he looked up at mirage. The Noble didn't need telling twice and dashed out of the lab, sprinting to the cells.

Holding his brother, Sunstreaker gently stroked his face. "Please hold on, Sides', please..." He begged, his hand clasping Sideswipe's as he reached for him. Their brightly coloured frames were covered in energon, Sideswipe's energon and the red mech let out a strangled sound before his body went into convulsions.

Jazz's optics brightened behind his visor at the sudden input of information over the bond. It was a mass dump and in his disorientation he stumbled, forcing Springer to catch his arm.

"What's up with you?" The Green mech frowned as Jazz steadied himself.

Shaking his helm, Jazz met his gaze with a grim expression. "We now have a target, the entire command staff is in the command deck."

"So...?"

"So we're going to start our fireworks there," Jazz grinned darkly.

"You mean?"

"Oh, I mean, there won't be a command deck when I've finished."

Springer gave jazz a dubious look. "How do you know where they are?"

"Prowl just sent me the entire tactical layout of the base and which cons are based where."

"And we're trusting him why?" Springer pulled a face, "could be a trap."

"He also sent an instruction to get a move on and that he's got Mirage freeing as many bots as he can on the inside, sounds like he's on our side don't you think?" Jazz raised an optic ridge at Springer who scowled.

Arming his weapon, Springer shrugged. "That remains to be seen, let's get this slag started."

Optimus fell limp on the metal slab he was lying on, his intakes panting with exertion. He could barely think straight through the pain in his chest. Turning his helm slightly his failing vision watched as Shockwave's singular optic narrowed dangerously and the scientist marched out of the lab in obvious annoyance. Something was wrong, Optimus could sense that much. Unable to do anything, he vented air in relief when the bright lights fell into darkness.

Sure that he had slipped into recharge, Optimus didn't react when the door opened a short time later and a long missed figure emerged from the shadows.

Optimus smiled, "at least I still get to see you in my dreams," he murmured softly gazing upon the familiar frown of his bondmate.

"This is no dream, lie still I need to deactivate your restraints," Prowl commanded quietly, frowning as he went to work on the bonds.

Frowning in confusion now, Optimus struggled a little when one arm was freed, it had been too long since he'd felt hope. Prowl's hand on his shoulder stilled his movements. "Wait, I need to check you over first," his optics glowed sternly yet softly at his leader, commanding attention as they always had and Optimus relented with a nod.

Frowning Prowl plugged into something still attached to Optimus and the Autobot leader let out a sigh as his chest plates closed for the first time since this whole ordeal began.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Prowl stated urgently as he helped Optimus to his feet. "Lean on me," he ordered, supporting the larger mech as they headed for the door.

"What's going on?" He murmured, hating how weak he felt.

"Rebellion," Prowl answered simply.

Suddenly the whole base was violently rocked, sending them stumbling into the wall. The fight had begun. Practically dragging a severely weakened Optimus with him, Prowl stepped out into the chaos that had erupted outside the lab. Jazz had arrived.

Ratchet moved quickly and ignored the growl he received as he shoved Sunstreaker out the way. He had seen the aftermath of this before and Primus be dammed if he was going to lose Sideswipe to the same pitiful fate. "Frag it all to the pits, I'm going to kill that fragger," he snarled as he worked quickly to try and seal the gravely critical mech.

Sunstreaker was kneeling by his brother's side, anxiously looking between Ratchet and his brother's stricken face. "You gotta save him..." He kept repeating, panic bubbling through him.

"What the frag does it look I'm doing?" Ratchet retorted, "Mirage get him out of here, go finish what you started!"

"I'm not leaving him-"

Sunstreaker started to protest before Ratchet grabbed his arm. "You can't do anything here, the other Autobots need you, I can't help them but I can help him, now go!"

Mirage tugged Sunstreaker away at Ratchet's nod, not without some resistance but finally Sunstreaker stopped fighting him and grabbed his abandoned weapon. He turned and have Mirage a reassuring if fuming nod as he followed him out.

Shockwave cursed and dragged himself out of the rubble that had once been the command deck. He had tried contacting Prowl to no avail right before heading in to meet with Megatron. That alone had raised his suspicions and he had doubled back. He was used to facing Megatron's wrath and ire so being late for an unannounced meeting wouldn't be the death of him. As it turned out delaying his entrance was the very thing that saved his life. He was caught in the blast as the command deck erupted into a fireball and he had been thrown to the floor just as that part of the corridor had collapsed around him.

Steadying himself he could hear the groaning and cries of mechs who had been caught in the blast but he was under no inclination to help them. He had bigger worries right now. They had been completely unprepared for the attack, arrogant that the Autobots could no longer hurt them. They had been wrong.

"Come on, we need to keep moving," Prowl urged Optimus after he sank against the wall for the third time.

"The other Autobots?" Optimus asked with a worried frown.

"Mirage is freeing those he can as we speak, please try to keep moving," Prowl firmly tugged on Optimus's arm, prompting the larger mech to push himself up and to keep moving forward. They had been lucky so far, most of the cons had been caught up with the attack at the front of the base and so Prowl had only needed to kill two. Prowl knew there would be more.

At that moment, Optimus suddenly stumbled, losing his footing and dropping heavily to his knees, pulling Prowl down with him before he could adjust his balance. "Optimus, are you alright?" His concern for his bondmate was punctuated by a sharp pain in his spark from Optimus. "Please get up, you must..." Prowl cupped Optimus's helm making the larger mech look him in the optic.

"Prowl lookout!"

At the hollered warning, Prowl reacted and swung his weapon around as he spun, remaining crouched. The blow didn't take the legs out from under the con, they did jar him from blowing his head off though. Lunging at the mech he used his rifle as a baton and rammed the butt of the weapon into the mech's face with a dull thud.

The mech managed to land a hit to the side of Prowl's helm sending the Praxian to the floor, on his back. Pouncing on the black and white, taking the advantage, the mech snarled. "You're going to the slag heap!"

Prowl armed his weapon and shoved it point blank into the mech's chest. Meeting the bright optics of the con he fired, eviscerating the spark chamber. "You first," he retorted coldly.

Shoving the greying con off him he got to his feet and headed back over to Optimus. Standing over his bonded he frowned and made to reach for him only to feel the heated muzzle of a weapon being pressed against the back of his helm.

"Make another move towards him and I'll happily disintegrate your processor."

"This is not what it looks like," Prowl replied calmly.

"Oh yeah? You're a slaggin' traitor, Prowl, so nothing is what it looks like. Now drop your fraggin' weapon."

Prowl did as he was told and let the weapon fall to the floor. "You need to listen to m-"

"-no! You need to listen. Mechs have died because of you at the hands of slavers. You could've helped them! You stood by and watched!"

"I had no choice," Prowl stated quietly.

"There's always a fraggin' choice!" The mech pressed the weapon harder against Prowl's helm.

Optimus raised a placating hand, managing to focus on the voices through his blurry optics. "Stand down, Sunstreaker, Prowl is not your enemy... stand down..."


End file.
